Withering Rose

Someday all monuments will fall all statues crumble and paintings fade all roses wither in the fall for in no home that beauty made has beauty ever stayed Oh my magnificent rose the autumn leaves around you soon summer windows close and this the state i've found you far from the glorious days of spring of childrens laughter and humming bees when in the meadow robins sing and chipmunks chuckling in the trees and your beauty as gentle as the breeze How time has shown it's presence Crows have perched upon your temples those singing birds, now become pheasants and I see creases in your petals In my nostalgic eye a drop of dew adorns for there's still silk in your petals and milk in your stem and fire in your thorns and what can be made of them of which winter will soon condemn And still such a sweet smell Your fragrance. Tis like an aura Your skin though darkened I can tell still more radiant than other flora So what shall my worried heart say to thee My lovely withering rose What poetry can serve memory or music be composed to keep you in bloom eternally for dreams are made for those who stand among the autumn leaves mourning the withering rose