Jul 2012
There are three ways to get to the supermarket
Two ways to get to the beach and four ways
to get out of town when your heading for
the city lights and at least one of those ways
each way, goes past my yard and everyday
he was off to somewhere different but he always
always stopped to admire my roses.
I'd started growing them six years ago
when my Dad started exhibiting a less than
normal glow and I wanted to bring the colour
back to his cheeks, the joy back to his mind and
the simple beauty of life back to his damaged soul
And when the time came to say goodbye there was
12 dozen roses, a rainbow of soft glowing petals
drowning his coffin so I couldn't see the long
wooden box that held my heart as I said goodbye
The sea of colour lives on in my yard, year after year
and the young man that stopped everyday
just to look at the beauty that lived there, being
magnificent, all perfumed and soft and dewy
never said Hello to me, even when I was just wandering
through the aisles of Yellows and Whites and Reds and
the Blue Moons and the Apricot Dreams.
He just looked at me and while I smiled at him
he'd just shake his head and continue to walk on
to the supermarket or the beach or to catch the bus
to the big city. But he never, ever spoke to me.
Not in words anyway...
One day I realized, it had been a little while since
that young man stopped by my yard to gaze at the roses
So I asked around and found that he had passed away
just the other day and that afternoon a young lady
paused at my gate and for the first time somebody
opened it and stepped through to talk to me...
I'm sorry to intrude... but my brother... you see
he was captured in combat and tortured and he
came back different and just recently he started talking
about roses, and how all the colour was gone in the world
except for the one place, down by the sea where life
was a rainbow and if ever he had to go away he wanted
to be covered by the roses down by the sea...
She stopped suddenly with tears in her eyes and waited
and I just silently cut 12 dozen roses to pile into her arms
When the colour goes out of the world and black and white
is more than just reality, when colour blind people can't see
the beauty in a world that is grossly unfair in what it takes away
I whispered into my heart
*Dad if you see that young man with a rainbow of roses
like the ones you held*
make sure you look after him for me
Two ways to get to the beach and four ways
to get out of town when your heading for
the city lights and at least one of those ways
each way, goes past my yard and everyday
he was off to somewhere different but he always
always stopped to admire my roses.
I'd started growing them six years ago
when my Dad started exhibiting a less than
normal glow and I wanted to bring the colour
back to his cheeks, the joy back to his mind and
the simple beauty of life back to his damaged soul
And when the time came to say goodbye there was
12 dozen roses, a rainbow of soft glowing petals
drowning his coffin so I couldn't see the long
wooden box that held my heart as I said goodbye
The sea of colour lives on in my yard, year after year
and the young man that stopped everyday
just to look at the beauty that lived there, being
magnificent, all perfumed and soft and dewy
never said Hello to me, even when I was just wandering
through the aisles of Yellows and Whites and Reds and
the Blue Moons and the Apricot Dreams.
He just looked at me and while I smiled at him
he'd just shake his head and continue to walk on
to the supermarket or the beach or to catch the bus
to the big city. But he never, ever spoke to me.
Not in words anyway...
One day I realized, it had been a little while since
that young man stopped by my yard to gaze at the roses
So I asked around and found that he had passed away
just the other day and that afternoon a young lady
paused at my gate and for the first time somebody
opened it and stepped through to talk to me...
I'm sorry to intrude... but my brother... you see
he was captured in combat and tortured and he
came back different and just recently he started talking
about roses, and how all the colour was gone in the world
except for the one place, down by the sea where life
was a rainbow and if ever he had to go away he wanted
to be covered by the roses down by the sea...
She stopped suddenly with tears in her eyes and waited
and I just silently cut 12 dozen roses to pile into her arms
When the colour goes out of the world and black and white
is more than just reality, when colour blind people can't see
the beauty in a world that is grossly unfair in what it takes away
I whispered into my heart
*Dad if you see that young man with a rainbow of roses
like the ones you held*
make sure you look after him for me
