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About the Poem

The rose fits into everyone's life. Everyone can take something different from this poem.

The Rose

I watched her disappear,
as the summer sun began to fade;
not to see again 'til next year.
Could this be what God has made?
The morning wind is welcome;
now the earth is snowy white.
The skies are the heavens;
at least I think they might.
I begin to see my friend again,
the one I had just made.
Every year life greets her
with the springtime's sun and rain.
The streams are clear and blue;
forever they may run.
The mornings bring dew;
the winters bring sleep,
and the cool crisp winds
make her weep.
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2 Visitor Comments

The poet has a good heart for poetry and Is well awere of what she is wrighting. You are a good wrighter Keep it up!:)
This poem seems to be from deep inside the heart of the writer. The kind of work that, as it is being written, the author sometimes feels so much that tears begin to form at the thought of such beauty as a rose.

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