Rose (a poem written for a coworker when his wife died)

Rose

A rose’s sweet sent lingers in memory’s deep abide
The gentle touch of each petal on my cheek
These are the things that wake me in the night
I will grow old while a young man within
And each night from now on I will cry

A rose has thorns to protect it from its fears
Sharp teeth that bite from within my grasp
Memory rips me ragged and leaves a bloody trail
But I refuse to let go my pain for then the loss is real

I stare up at the cloudless skies and dream you by my side
Each gentle breeze upon my cheek makes me close my eyes
To wish you here and release me from my pain

Sweet sent of you lingers a fire upon my heart
A gentle touch and a sharp caress enfold me

And at last I am forced to say my fear, Goodbye