“The Visitor”

A knock at my door stirs me from my sleep
When I behold a waking dream
A six-foot rose is standing at my door
And says to me, “Hello, I am the one!”

So I invite him in and we settle in
With some gin, and some olives and a lime
As we love the night away
His fragrance fills the air
And soon enough, my heart

Of his thorns I soon forget
Until the next morning
When I find myself alone
Was it a dream? It must've been
For roses don't just knock at the door!

I laughed at the thought and I almost forgot
Until I found the petal lying there
On the floor, its fragrance lost

I'll not see him again
I thought as I wept
At the hole in my heart
His thorns had left

~*~
06/1998


Copyright © 1998 Brenda Barnhart. All Rights Reserved.
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