In Memory

I awaken at the first break of morning light
that chases moon and stars in daily flight,
I see the dawn trap a blossom's new day smile
and witnessing this, I hesitate awhile.

Then as the sun causes my staring to yield
I turn to stroll across the open field,
Sighing as the summer day awakens old desires
of a love in my heart time never expires.

In the field stood an individual blossom tree
and as I looked a small bird I could see,
Within the confines of branches gently blown
rehearsing notes till it's song had grown.

Then the nightingale sang to a budding rose
asking if this is where all beauty grows,
The flower blushed red upon its tender cheek
as did my love when I dared first speak.

Within the rhythmic beat of the bird's melodies
lingering in the haunting music, memories,
In the freshness of the garden blooming there
the scent of the red rose upon her hair.

Now there is something here I must reveal
that from the tree a blossom I did steal,
The nightingale sat on guard yet won't bemoan
a single red rose for my love's headstone!

sonofadam