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nostalgicjaguar
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In loving memory of something that was. . .
In my garden I have planted your favorite kind of rose, and I take care of it, knowing the significance of such a pretty flower. I watch as it continues to grow. How at first it was just a little bud hidden among the countless leaves. The way I saw it when I first bought it in the store. Now, it has bloomed, letting out a bright flow of life reflecting off of the soft petals that are gleaming with the morning dew.
I saw it. I saw the rose bloom, day by day. I watered it and cared for it, and I watched the way it just grew bigger and bigger. I had to. I bought it for one reason, and though I got several negative opinions about even purchasing such a flower, I knew to watch over it, because it was for me, for my own sake, for my own pleasure of watching it grow.
Now, as I see the first rose of many to come, I can't help but think about what this rose means to me, and I sit down next to it and I say to myself, "You know?? I have to admit that it is over, but this rose tells me that I shouldn't stop looking at flowers, and that I could still smell how sweet the fragrance can be!" So now, here, I know that there is still that one rose out there, just one rose for me, but I live in the garden of life and I can't ignore the rest of the flowers, I'm a gardener. . . I just have to take care of my flowers, I have many, and thank heaven for having found that angelic_rose. . .
So now I look at this flower and let out one of the many *sighs* I had once had over this flower, now I look away and see my prized possesion.
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020813
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