- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Rose
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(an ode to my first lover)
I once was given a rose.
A single long-stemmed bloom
Of red, crimson like those
I dream of placing in your private room.
That room, that secret place,
Where love and warmth reside.
Your heart, your love, your sweet embrace
When you held me close to your side.
The rose, alas, did not love long
Plucked as it was from its thorny bush.
But its memory, like a favorite song,
Lives in my heart like a lonely thrush.
I see the rose, its petals red,
I feel its heft, and smell its scent.
I see your eyes, half closed in bed,
And think of hours that came and went.
I see the rose still in my dreams
And think of you, so far away.
I love you, dear, in my dreams;
For there, and in my heart, is where you'll stay.
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