The Last Touch
The faded rose has told it's tale.
Of love that's no longer for sale.
With absence of a heart so true.
It's redness now has turned to blue.
The world has turned around again.
But no one but the florist knows when.
The sun will shine deep down inside.
Where love has gone away to hide.
The pain of rain has soaked the soul.
And no ones brain can gain control.
Of something that the heart knows not.
Of that simple rose that once was bought.
Hope and faith and painted dreams.
Are all that's left of moonlit beams.
That shone so bright so long ago.
In stars eternal light aglow.
Copyright © Robert Johnson | Year Posted 2015
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