Pressed between the pages of an old diary An age lightened rose Lies soap bubble thin A claret echo lingers in once vibrant petals Like the smudge of a first kiss On a clean shaven cheek Does the rose remember the blush? Of the first love Does it remember the warm wet earth? That held it close The scent still clings to its petals Does it remember the morning dew? Trickling down its leaves Like droplets of liquid laughter Spilling from my eyes As I held it to my face
First love fades Like the flowers crimson hue But this rose Like a dear old friend Remembers
TL Hughes (Boehm) 1987
another one from the vault. Before I really knew what "love" was.