Roses in the darkness

The tight buds pointed under my fingers

Slowly their petals unfold

Softness around a well of fragrance.

I bury my face and drink deep

Of that heavenly perfume

Which unlooses memories

Of the days of long ago

When I could see their infinite shades.

The pure white of virginity

So easily marred by rain.

The pinks of young girlhood

Innocent, shyly modest.

There, golden hues

Of laughing womanhood,

And the rich red fullness

Of maturity and experience.

Now as I feel those silky petals

My fingers bruise their loveliness.

Their perfume lingers as I pass by

My roses in the darkness

© Gillian Peall



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