The Dying Rose
I walked into the garden,
Picked a dying rose.
A few petals fell to the
ground
As I silently carried it home.
Once inside I filled a vase
with water.
I placed the rose inside, and
set it upon the table.
I sat and drank a cup
of tea
Thinking that maybe, the rose
would enjoy my company.
After a while, I turned in
for the night.
In the morning when I
awoke,
I looked at the dying rose,
To my surprise, from my love...
the rose began to bloom.
Copyright © Kelli Egloff-Metzgar | Year Posted 2009
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