Roses 

 

"Why did you get flowers today?"

She questioned, a suspicious look on her face.

"Because it's Friday,"

I replied, gazing off into space.

 

The chrysanthemums were beautiful,

Full, rich and sweet.

I picked a maroon so intense,

It took twice as much snow white,

To offset their heat. 

 

A perfect blend of color to liven our drab Fall,

No other reason to buy flowers,

Except to enjoy them, that's all.

 

For my love, a dozen red roses,

Her usual treat.

She kept the dead ones round about,

To remind her of the beat. 

 

Her heart skipped when she saw,

Me carrying that first bouquet, that day.

Asking, "Who bought them for you?"

Not thinking they were coming her way.

 

She prepared vases and arrangements,

For the mums and roses too.

Placed the roses center table,

And the mums for my view.

 

I asked if she liked her flowers,

And she replied that she did

She started to climb the stairs to her room,

And softly said, "I'd rather have roses, instead."

 

The lesson learned is that there is no flower so sweet,

No color so intense or petal so neat,

Than the rose, and so it goes,

Next time, I'll buy her roses.

 

And have a reason ,

No matter the day or season.

 

Copyright 1999 (c) Ronald W. Hull

 

9/18/99



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