The Wilting Rose

A loving man to his wife wept,
         "I fear we must now part.
Forever is too strange a thought
         For this unworthy heart.

"O Death, she'll come and tie a mask
         Upon my lifeless head.
It's scented like a suicide,
         A fright'ning shade of red.

"And so a wilting rose, my dear,
         A wilting rose give I.
I hope you'll find it beautiful
         Although the leaves are dry.

"But woe is I, my dearest maid,
         For I've no water here!
The rose I gave, now yours, once mine,
         Will surely die, I fear."

"O let it cause no grief, my love.
         I'll wet it with my tears,
And joy from grief once more shall grow.
         This rose will persevere."

And so they went their separate ways,
         Filled with a memory
The space 'twixt that which once had been
         And what would come to be.