30.07.2007, 10:23
A Flower of Memory
A maid one evening took a wilted rose
She wore and pressed it in a treasured book
Where she alone was privileged to look
On love's poor fading token in repose,
Till time had passed and with it all her woes,
And then once more she turned the leaves in tears
To see the beauty of her vanished years
Return like exiles to a sacred close,
The shrine deserted, but the grounds abloom
With living memories of fairer skies;
So love returned; sweet incense swept the room.
She dreamed old dreams again with misty eyes,
And then her Heaven paled and in the gloom
She stood outside the gates of Paradise.
A maid one evening took a wilted rose
She wore and pressed it in a treasured book
Where she alone was privileged to look
On love's poor fading token in repose,
Till time had passed and with it all her woes,
And then once more she turned the leaves in tears
To see the beauty of her vanished years
Return like exiles to a sacred close,
The shrine deserted, but the grounds abloom
With living memories of fairer skies;
So love returned; sweet incense swept the room.
She dreamed old dreams again with misty eyes,
And then her Heaven paled and in the gloom
She stood outside the gates of Paradise.