Ellie's First And Forever Rose
I brought you roses on your sixteenth birthday …
Nearly twenty-six years ago.
The stems were long, lean and elegant
In almost exactly the way that I wasn’t.
There were thorns to cut to the quick
With the razor sharp wit
Of the suave, sophisticated and stylish
Which had somehow passed me by on the other side,
Giving me berth wide enough
To show me the mark I’d missed.
But the buds were all ‘me’:
A little shy in the knowledge of their own simplicity,
Giving themselves entire, safe and free
Into the care of your lovely young life,
Your tender touch;
For there lay neither fear nor judgement,
But the gentle eye of grace,
The sweet heart and hands of honour.
Every petal was me, My Love:
My outer layers some had seen,
Yet beneath lay your realm alone:
An ethereal land of spirit and second-sight.
Even I didn’t know
How my interior would look in the light,
But I did know you wouldn’t turn away
And you knew how I longed for you to stay.
That first bouquet was me - is still me, My Love:
We both knew what lay soft and eternal in the gift,
And had I by divine design my time again,
I would always choose to be:
Ellie’s First and Forever Rose.