Some would pick at the petal of the rose
And say he loves me, he loves me not
I suppose.
But feelings are so much more
Than uprooted flowers.
It is more than you and me
It is ours

That rose could be part of a bigger collection
A wedding bonquet
When we love into each other’s eyes
And say I love you forever and always
That rose can always be called
To be a boutonniere men pin to their suits
Standing as the best of men.

The rose can be laid down
As the flowers people give as we walk from the reception.
As husband and wife.
That rose can be put up
As decorations that celebrate everlasting to forever in a halled room.
Finally that rose can be taken off
After all of the festivities of the day
When garments are laid aside
Still smelling of perfume made from dug-up roses.