Gift of Rose

Mar. 15, 2010

Youth in all its sweetness comes

Running to my open door,

And I with arms of joy outstretched

Embrace her beauty and adore.

Day falls into languid night

The tropic heat a furnace grows

As wondrous eyes gaze at me

With love that would my heart enclose.

The seasons bring their transience,

With dew-filled morns and auguries,

Of gardens winking in the sun

And wind-swept earth that coats the trees.

How many dawns are left to play

In the flower-fields that call to me

I reckon not nor do I care

For I am young and young shall be,

Her love all shattered grief repairs

With loveliness that love bestows

Of perfumed jasmine and peony

And on this heart, her gift of rose.