Along the pebbled path she ran
With rose in heart and rose in hand,
Ribbon tied and crushed in grip-
Dew now dripped from petal vein.

A vein, a clouded vein of 19 years-
Ruby, scarlet, sanguine smoke, so slipped
Through the clock.  Time tinged with tears
Of  slow, sombre, carbon snow, melting
Into red.  

Pale, submerged snow-drop shell, hair
Veiling her face from  the wind,
A subtle skip, a silk-spun breeze-
Bottled fragments of 6 year old days.

Days, nectar young days of effluence-
When roses sprung , and intertwined,
Her mother’s hand in hers.

Time then tinged with tears of carbon
Snow.

Along the pebbled path she ran,
With rose in heart and rose in hand,
To place scarlett florets on the earth-
Dew now dripped from petal vein

Onto the marble stone.

As feather tears fell, liberal,tender
A sharp pain pricked in her side-
So with rose in heart and rose in hand,
She stood to turn around,

Through clouded, amber-dusted eyes
A rosebush flowered into sight.
Where thorns still sprung and intertwined
Holding roses, holding light.