He buys her a dozen roses
for he knows she loves them so
To see her face light up
Is all he's looking for
She slowly arranges them
this is part of the pleasure they give
And when she sits them on the table
Only eleven roses appear
The twelth rose is perfect
Its taken and put aside
She drys it oh so carefully
Knowing it will last a very long time
It reminds her of his love for her
Thats why she picks the best
The twelve rose is simply
A cut above the rest.
And when the eleven roses die
It no longer saddens her
For she knows she's saved many a twelth...
Of the roses given to her
For when the doorbell rings
And her husbands standing there
The smile that is on his face
Is what she treasures dear.
Copyright © Dora
Thank You Rick for all the roses
I love you
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April 1/2000