I stood at your doorstep holding
my gift to you, but I did not
knock right away, I named every
rose, smelling each as I did so.
The first seven were the days I spend
thinking of you. The next to had
to be your eyes, for they too
were the perfect of their kind. The
The next was your heart, so red and
so pure, standing out among
the rest. The last two were
unmistakable, two young lovers,
their stems intertwined, dancing
in the spring feilds to each others
music. I watched from a distance
as you opened the door and found
the roses. I watched as you knelt
down and picked up, first seven
roses, and then two more, followed
by the brightest of them all; and
finally as tears came down your
face you picked up the two
joined roses. I came closer as
you rose and turned around,
then spinning once again to
face me. You came up to
me and gave to me the
brightest rose of all to keep
YOU*********