The Love Rose
I was looking from my window at the first of winterís snow;
All the grass was disappearing as its mantle spread below.
But a single rose was standing, symbol of past summer days
And I saw its petals wave as if to catch my roaming gaze.
But the snow kept pressing downwards. Though the rose was wild and bold
It could not withstand the onslaught and it withered from the cold.
I stool still with mixed emotions as my eyes surveyed the scene.
Soon the snow had wiped all trace away of where the flower had been.
Though the soil was toiled and fertileí; even though a flower may bloom;
Though it pass through all the tempests of the autumnís rainy gloom,
It cannot withstand the winterís harsh extremes of ice and cold
And the flower will die and wither, as its beauty still unfolds.
So with love! A thing of beauty in lifeís garden blooming strong,
Giving fragrance through the summers, yet itís lost in winterís storm.
Like the rose within my garden appealing splendor to the sky,
Yet the cold will make love wither, and the flower of love will die.