SEASONS

A Rose that I remember
'twas a Winter well long passed
and an Autumn in the evening
or a Summer: passing fast

And 'neath the Winter's moonlight
or the Autumn's evening glare
and the Summer, after noon times
but the Rose was always there

The wineglass on the table
beneath the sky above
or settled 'round a fire
an unspoken toast to love

Nature's way of healing
scars that will not die
though we need to keep the mem'ries
it is the Spirit's need to try