Roses for a Lover, Idealized

When you have become to me
as roses bloom, in memory,
exquisite, each sharp thorn forgot,
will I recall—yours made me bleed?

When winter makes me think of you—
whorls petrified in frozen dew,
bright promises blithe spring forsook,
will I recall your words—barbed, cruel?


Mohamed Sarfan's picture
Dear Poeter, Memories are those that are not forgotten as long as they are alive. Recovering loving moments in this life is like walking on thorns in some way. Love blossoms and falls like the life of flowers, leaving the gift of wounds and tears in some hearts All The Best My Dear Friend; Write More Congratulations

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