The White Rose

There's a white rose on the back porch stair
Who, may I ask, has put it there?
A man whose love passed long ago
Has harnessed his grief and let his love show.
He thinks of all the days long past
He smiles and wishes those days would have last.
The long, long summers spent in harmless love,
In her cozy cottage, now home to a dove.
He remembers the way her face always shone
Whenever he whispered with his sweet tone.
He now stands near the stair with a tear in his eye
And turns to leave as he whispers, "Goodbye."

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