PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I met you at the garden gate,
One summer evening, getting
late.
You handed me a rose, so sweet,
Dropped a petal at my feet.
Lifted me into your stare,
We were so young, just standing
there.
You asked me, return someday,
When we are older, look my way.
Many years have come and gone,
I returned to sing our song.
You picked a rose for my hair,
Roses started our love affair.

(c) copyright heather burns