After Roses

Though now the roses wilt
Within their cut glass walls,
And droop their heads and
Look as if they're weary,
Think not of their fatigue,
But of the Joy
Their precious beauty brought you.


And press them well
For some distant, cloudy time
When, seeing them,
You will recall a rainy day you smiled,
And, remembering,
Smile again.

Poetry on this page is copyrighted by the author. Do not copy and use this page or poetry on any other page or site, for whatever reason, WITHOUT the expressed permission of the author. Write a DETAILED email to them if you want to use it.