Twelve Roses
Into a vase I placed twelve roses;
I watered them with my love;
I chased away for at least awhile
The pain that kept her from smiling.
Upon the mantle of her heart
The roses bloomed with warmth
To start then faded into memory.
As we talked our friendship grew
The hours became far too few.
We placed aside the ordinary;
We traveled to distant shores;
We tasted Europe’s finest foods
And drank from vintage stores
Of wine and scenic interludes.
Each day hence I felt her less
Her mind was slipping into rest.
There were days, though few
When we again walked anew
Where joys of life were brought
To mind, where life seemed so sublime,
Far from the grasp of time.
Then one day she told me plain
That Jesus would her soul sustain,
That I not worry about that day
For which she often prayed.
Into a vase I placed twelve roses;
I watered them with my love;
I chased away for at least awhile
The pain that kept her from smiling.
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