In my hand I held the rose
As I would a Woman dear,
Within my fingers I held it tight
As I wished it would not disappear.
From the beauty that I had knew
When the kiss of beauty, once did flew.
I held the rose as I would a love
As I had held in memory and thought,
Then the rose I could not let go
For the same as a lover, she became my soul.
The stem became a body and the petals became her skin.
Then I held her softly, within the wind.
The rose held me as I held her
The two of us had became one,
Then the act of GOD prevailed that day,
For he commanded the wind to take her away.
Then towards the heavens I saw her flew.
As though to join the love that I once had knew.
In my hand there laid a thorn,
Though to remind me of the sting of death,
So upon the Earth I then laid the thorn
So the love of life could again be reborn.
I buried the thorn as you would a dream.
Knowing never again, will it be seen.
Randy McClave
Poemhunter.com
Daily Quote: A thankful heart is not only the greatest virtue, but the parent of all other virtues.
- Cicero
Linguist Corner-SPANISH: camino, noun
track; path; road
Examples:
- un camino de montaña
a mountain path
- un camino de tierra
a dirt track
- un camino rural
a country road
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