In my hand I held the rose <br />As I would a woman dear, <br />Within my fingers I held it tight <br />As I wished it would not disappear. <br />From the touch, sight and beauty that I knew, <br />When the kiss of beauty, once had blew. <br /> <br />I held the rose as I would a love <br />As I had held in memory and thought, <br />And then the rose I could not let go <br />For the same as a lover, she became my soul. <br />The stem became the body and the petals became the skin, <br />Then I held her lightly, within the wind. <br /> <br />The rose held me, as I had held her <br />The two of us had become one <br />Then the act of God had prevailed that day <br />For he commanded the wind to take the rose away. <br />And towards the heavens She had flew, <br />As though to join the love that I once had knew. <br /> <br />In my hand there laid a thorn <br />Though to remind me of the sting of death, <br />So upon the Earth, I then laid the thorn <br />So love of life could again be reborn. <br />I buried the thorn as you would a dream, <br />Knowing never again, will it be seen. <br /> <br /> <br />Randy L. McClave<br /><br />Randy McClave<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rose-52/
