One Red Rose


His trembling hand holds one red rose
he picked from the garden below.
She lies in bed still as the air,
her eyes straight ahead in an endless stare.
His eyes fill with tears, his heart full of love,
holding the rose for the woman he loves.
He sits in the chair and lays his head on her pillow
and he dreams of a time long ago.
Down the long dusty road, he stops at her door,
with one red rose in his hand.
My how the sunlight shines in her hair,
her beauty takes his breath away.
She walks down the aisle in her gown of white,
and he hands her one red rose.
The years fly by, the children are grown,
now they sit by the fire all along.
Brushing back her hair of gray,
he hands her one red rose.
His trembling hand holds one red rose,
as he sits in the chair by her bed,
and they dance around the room in his head.

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