A Good Year For The Roses
I can hardly bear the sight of lipstick
On the cigarettes there in the ashtray
Lyin' cold the way you left 'em,
But at least your lips caressed them
While you packed
Or the lip-print on a half-filled cup of coffee
That you poured and didn't drink
But at least you thought you wanted it,
Tat's so much more than I can say for me
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin'
Funny I don't even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
It's been a good year for the roses
After three full years of marriage,
It's the first time that you haven't made the bed
I guess the reason we're not talkin',
Tere's so little left to say we haven't said
While a million thoughts go racin' through my mind
I find I haven't said a word
From the bedroom the familiar sound
Of a baby's cryin' goes unheard
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin'
Funny I don't even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
It's been a good year for the roses
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Good Year For The Roses
I can hardly bear the sight of lipstick on the cigarettes there in the ashtray
Lyin cold the way you left em, but at least your lips caressed them while
You packed
Or the lip-print on a half-filled cup of coffee that you poured and didnt drink
But at least you thought you wanted it, thats so much more than I can say
For me
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin
Funny I dont even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
Its been a good year for the roses
After three full years of marriage, its the first time that you havent
Made the bed
I guess the reason were not talkin, theres so little left to say we
Havent said
While a million thoughts go racin through my mind, I find I havent said a word
>from the bedroom the familiar sound of a babys cryin goes unheard
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin
Funny I dont even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
Its been a good year for the roses
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good From Far, Far From Good
(myles goodwyn)
Published by mfg sing sing music/socan - ascap
I dont go thinkin its right, for somebody else
I know how it is, I can see for myself, yeah
Look left, right, and make up your mind
If anyone tells you different, well theyre wastin your time
Yet its alright
Hey baby, whats a man to do
He says nothin, but he aint no fool
Hes just lookin, but its understood
Looks good from far, but its far from good
Good from far, far from good
Dont bring it around my door
Good from far, far from good
I dont care no more
She feels out of place, but it isnt a dream
She looks round and she knows that its all too extreme, yeah
And meanwhile, a party is beginnin to stall
And now shes ready to turn, and get away from it all
It dont feel right
Hey baby, whats a girl to do
You feel hurt, cause you play by the rules
Your friends tell you youre misunderstood
Looks good from far, but its far from good
Good from far, far from good
Dont bring it around my door
Good from far, far from good
I dont care no more
Good from far, far from good
You must accept that all, you turn and walk away
You live your own life, you get stronger every day
Good from far, far from good
Dont bring it around my door
Good from far, far from good
I dont care no more
Good from far, far from good
Baby, Im feelin alright
Good from far, far from good
No more no more no more no more
Good from far, far from good
Dont bring it around my door
Good from far, far from good
I dont care no more
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Can't You Stand and Observe This
Quiet!
Why can't you stand and observe this,
Like everyone else?
'I've seen this all before.'
Well perhaps others haven't.
No one wants to hear you tell what's coming.
I haven't seen this myself.
'But dad, you are here every year! '
And what is that suppose to mean?
Some things I've seen and some things I haven't.
I am only here for your benefit!
Didn't you say you wanted to come?
'Yeah, I did.
But I thought we were looking at the same thing.
Together.'
You're always looking ahead for something new.
Why can't you wait until it gets here?
'But it's right there...
I see it coming!
I want to see what's coming.
Something new!
I'm tired of seeing the same thing over and over,
Again and again! '
You will stand here until I'm ready to leave!
'Who's damn parade is this anyway?
Yours or mine! ? '
WHAT did you say to me?
'Quiet!
Why can't you stand and observe this,
Like everyone else?
You're gonna miss something...
If you keep staring at me, daddy! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Year That's Come and Gone
In the year that's come and gone, love, his flying feather
Stooping slowly, gave us heart, and bade us walk together.
In the year that's coming on, though many a troth be broken,
We at least will not forget aught that love hath spoken.
In the year that's come and gone, dear, we wove a tether
All of gracious words and thoughts, binding two together.
In the year that's coming on with its wealth of roses
We shall weave it stronger, yet, ere the circle closes.
In the year that's come and gone, in the golden weather,
Sweet, my sweet, we swore to keep the watch of life together.
In the year that's coming on, rich in joy and sorrow,
We shall light our lamp, and wait life's mysterious morrow.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffee
Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.
poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Asking for Roses
A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master,
With doors that none but the wind ever closes,
Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster;
It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses.
I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary;
'I wonder,' I say, 'who the owner of those is.'
'Oh, no one you know,' she answers me airy,
'But one we must ask if we want any roses.'
So we must join hands in the dew coming coldly
There in the hush of the wood that reposes,
And turn and go up to the open door boldly,
And knock to the echoes as beggars for roses.
'Pray, are you within there, Mistress Who-were-you?'
'Tis Mary that speaks and our errand discloses.
'Pray, are you within there? Bestir you, bestir you!
'Tis summer again; there's two come for roses.
'A word with you, that of the singer recalling--
Old Herrick: a saying that every maid knows is
A flower unplucked is but left to the falling,
And nothing is gained by not gathering roses.'
We do not loosen our hands' intertwining
(Not caring so very much what she supposes),
There when she comes on us mistily shining
And grants us by silence the boon of her roses.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
*
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Roses
(jimbeau hinson, david murphy)
Red roses just won't work now
Here we go us again
You've been gone and here you stand
With a dozen i'm sorry's in your hand
Victim of your podent charms
I took you back with open arms
But along with the roses came the thorns
Chorus:
And that's why red roses just won't work now
Cause you've done too much
To talk things out
You could tell me you love me
But that's the one thing i'll always doubt
Red roses just won't work now
Gone for good's the trust i had
You let me done the garden path
Just too many times to take you back
So faith is why don't you
Save the roses for you know who
I already know how long they'll last
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Roses Red
Gone with the wind
I am sure, Nowhere
To Go without you.
Without you, my red roses turned black
My Love for you is strong here,
but you are no longer here
I sit here looking at my shrub of roses
Not red, They are now black
when you left us here
No matter where we go
I think of The good times
when my roses were red
Now they turned black
I only say this now
my roses turned black without you
Return to me my love
And Turn My Black Roses Red.
poem by Ashleigh Leona Mellon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every day
Any one
Eated any time
It is not good
For health...!
5 year's to
40 year's
Eat three time's
Better....
Any age avoid
Junk food...!
Eat twoice a day
Best of thing
Above 40 year's...
Become abdomen
Reduse slowely...!
Above 70 year's
Only eat to
Drink juse
And watteri food's
Eating is importent
Of life...
So,
Eat too live is
Not good...!
Live too eat
Better
Good...!
Eat eat good
Food every day...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Must Have Been The Roses
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Ten years the waves roll the ships home from the sea,
Thinkin well how it may blow in all good company,
If I tell another what your own lips told to me,
Let me lay neath the roses, till my eyes no longer see.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
One pane of glass in the window,
No one is complaining, no, come in and shut the door,
Faded is the crimson from the ribbons that she wore,
And its strange how no one comes round any more.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roses Are Red (Jessica)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Honey is so sweet and so are you darling!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You've made my dreams come true!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have my brown eyes glued on YOU!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I feel like i have known you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are so FINE that you give me the BLUES!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Lord knows that im falling for you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I just want to Rock with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
These lips can't wait to be kissing you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I do anything to claim you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I bow down to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I've never met anyone as HOT as you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
never knew i would meet you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm going to bed would you like to come too!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I rather spend my precious time with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are beautiful as sparkling DIAMOND!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You have me speechless everytime i talk to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
May i have this dance with you (JESSICA)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have mentioned your name so many time i have lost count!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I dont want no-one if i cant have you. #PERIOD
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I want to give you everlasting Joy, Happiness, and especially LOVE!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm the one who will make your dreams come true
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Chilli is hot and so are you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
JESSICA ITA JAMES WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Roses are red Violets are blue,
THIS POEM WAS MADE FOR YOU.......
poem by Obi Onyenwe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ive Got A Good Thing
(jerry ragavoy / mort shuman)
I got a good thing
I got a good thing
I got a good thing going
Take the sun and take the moon
And stars that shine so bright
All I need is my guy
And everythings all right
Everything about him thrills me
The way he looks at me just kills me
Hes got a way of getting to me
Every kiss just goes right through me
I got a good thing
You know I got a good thing, baby
I got a good thing going
Take the rainbow from the sky
Oh, I dont really care
I will have a pot of gold
As long as he is there
I never knew such sweet affection
And its all in my direction
If he left theres no mistaking
My poor heart would start to break and
I got a good thing
You know I got a good thing going
I got a good thing going, yeah
I got a good thing, yeah
You know I got a good thing going
You know I got a sweet thing baby
Everything is everything, baby
Everything is uptight, all right, out of sight
Yeah, I got a good thing going, yeah
You know I got a good thing
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Good Johnny
Skip de skip, up the road
Off to school we go
Dont you be a bad boy johnny
Dont you slip up
Or play the fool
Oh no ma, oh no da,
Ill be your golden boy
I will obey evry golden rule
Get told by the teacher
Not to day-dream
Told by my mother:
Be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good be good (johnny)
Be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good (johnny)
Be good be good.
Are you going to play football this year, john?
No!
Oh, well you must be going to play cricket this year then,
Are you johnny?
No! no! no!
Boy, you sure are a funny kid, johnny, but I like you! so tell me,
What kind of a boy are you, john?
I only like dreaming
All the day long
Where no one is screaming
Be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good be good (johnny)
Be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Johnny!
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Santa Can You Hear Me?
Oh Yah..
Last Night I Took A Walk In The Snow,
Couples Holding Hands Places To Go,
Seems Like Everyone But Me Is In Love,
Santa, Can You Hear Me?
I Signed My Letter That I Sealed With A Kiss,
I Sent It Off And Just Said This,
I Know Exactly What I Want This Year,
Santa, Can You Hear Me?
I Want My Baby, Baby
I Want Someone To Love Me,
Someone To Hold,
And Maybe, Maybe,
He'll Be All My Own,
With A Big Red Bow
[Chorus]
Santa Can You Hear Me?
I Have Been So Good This Year,
And All I Want Is One Thing,
Tell Me My True Love Is Here,
He's All I Want,
Just For Me,
Underneath My Christmas Tree,
I'll Be Waiting Here,
Santa That's My Only Wish This Year.
oooooh yah...yah, yah,
Christmas Eve I Just Can't Sleep,
Would I Be Wrong For Taking A Peek?
'Cause I Heard That You're Coming To Town,
Santa Can You Hear Me?
I Really Hope That You're On Your Way,
With Something Special For Me In Your Sleigh,
Oh Please Make My Wish Come True,
Santa Can You Hear Me?
I Want My Baby, Baby
I Want Someone To Love Me,
Someone To Hold,
And Maybe, Maybe,
We'll Be All Alone Under The Mistletoe.
[Chorus]
Santa Can You Hear Me?
I Have Been So Good This Year
And All I Want Is One Thing,
Tell Me My True Love Is Here,
He's All I Want,
Just For Me,
Underneath My Christmas Tree,
I'll Be Waiting Here,
Santa That's My Only Wish This Year..
I Hope My Letter Reaches You In Time,
Bring Me Love I Can Call All Mine,
Cuz I Have Been So Good (so good this year )
Can We Be All Alone Under The Mistletoe,
He's All I Want In A Big Red Bow,
[Chorus]
Santa Can You Hear Me?
I Have Been So Good This Year,
And All I Want Is One Thing,
Tell Me My True Love Is Here,
He's All I Want,
Just For Me,
Underneath My Christmas Tree,
I'll Be Waiting Here,
Santa That's My Only Wish This Year..
Oooh Santa
Can You Hear Me? Ooooh
Oh Santa..
He's All I Want,
Just For Me,
Underneath My Christmas Tree,
I'll Be Waiting Here,
Santa That's My Only Wish This Year,
Santa That's My Only Wish This Year.
song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Patriot, The
AN OLD STORY.
I.
It was roses, roses, all the way,
With myrtle mixed in my path like mad:
The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,
The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,
A year ago on this very day.
II.
The air broke into a mist with bells,
The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries.
Had I said, ``Good folk, mere noise repels---
But give me your sun from yonder skies!''
They had answered, ``And afterward, what else?''
III.
Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun
To give it my loving friends to keep!
Nought man could do, have I left undone:
And you see my harvest, what I reap
This very day, now a year is run.
IV.
There's nobody on the house-tops now---
Just a palsied few at the windows set;
For the best of the sight is, all allow,
At the Shambles' Gate---or, better yet,
By the very scaffold's foot, I trow.
V.
I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
A rope cuts both my wrists behind;
And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
For they fling, whoever has a mind,
Stones at me for my year's misdeeds.
VI.
Thus I entered, and thus I go!
In triumphs, people have dropped down dead.
``Paid by the world, what dost thou owe
``Me?''---God might question; now instead,
'Tis God shall repay: I am safer so.
poem by Robert Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Roses Just For You
Blue Roses Just For You,
to show my love,
desire, to hold you tight,
know this we our right.
Blue Roses Just For You,
my heart so full
over flowing now, and
remembering our vow.
Blue Roses Just For You,
with your tenderness,
here for a while, I'll stay,
while you make my heart sway.
Blue Roses Just For You,
to show my love,
give I these roses to you my dear,
hope to spend with you, many a year.
wrote 1-12-07
The Patriot
AN OLD STORY
I
It was roses, roses, all the way,
With myrtle mixed in my path like mad:
The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,
The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,
A year ago on this very day.
II
The air broke into a mist with bells,
The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries.
Had I said, "Good folk, mere noise repels--
But give me your sun from yonder skies!"
They had answered, "And afterward, what else?"
III
Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun
To give it my loving friends to keep!
Nought man could do, have I left undone:
And you see my harvest, what I reap
This very day, now a year is run.
IV
There's nobody on the house-tops now--
Just a palsied few at the windows set;
For the best of the sight is, all allow,
At the Shambles' Gate--or, better yet,
By the very scaffold's foot, I trow.
V
I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
A rope cuts both my wrists behind;
And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
For they fling, whoever has a mind,
Stones at me for my year's misdeeds.
VI
Thus I entered, and thus I go!
In triumphs, people have dropped down dead.
"Paid by the world, what dost thou owe
Me?"--God might question; now instead,
'Tis God shall repay: I am safer so.
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Memory That Lives
The scent of the roses
have filled the room.
They came today
to lessen my gloom.
Why the gloom?
why the doom?
There's a hole in my heart
like a cold stone tomb
filled with pain
ever present
like an empty womb.
I've lost my babe.
She was taken away
and 50 years later
there are roses to say
'Your pain is mine.
I feel it too.
For mine was the seed
placed in you.'
And so on this melancholy day
once every year
the roses are sent by my love,
my dear
to help me remember
her birth, her death
as I inhale the sweetness
with my breath
that I only wish was hers.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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