The Rose

The Rose
When you knock upon my door in the late days of spring
You will meet a climbing rose who has a song to sing.
"I am called Victoria and I am very old
I come from the land of England you see, and there, my story is told.
The time I come from is the past of England long ago
When people shared a pot of tea and time seemed oh-so-slow.
I wait and wait throughout the year to share with you my blooms
And when I open them so wide, out wafts my perfume.
That's the secret I do share with those who take the time
To stop and smell my flowers sweet, a fragrance most sublime.
So please do stop your hurry now and smell me as you pass
My pretty flowers soft and pink, a short time they will last.
For when the sun grows very hot in the summer hours
My blossoms they will fade away...I'll drop my pretty flowers.
But do not worry even when the wintery days turn cold
You can always think of me and the story I have told.
That is why I am called 'Victorian Memory'
When you need to take a pause, please remember me."

written by Christine Summerfield/June 2016