Rose Memory

When warm breezes blow,
And Summer blue skies
Hold puffy white clouds,
That slowly float by,
The roses glow a rich dark red,
The color of burgundy wine,
Hanging on their green vines.

The notion of her smile
Was like one of those roses.
Many years had passed
Since they had said good-bye.
Now her rose memory always returned
Whenever he saw the roses
Hanging on their green vines.