The Roses Red

The roses red, bloom and grow
Mid soil and earth down below
Whose roots cling tight to Mother Earth
Yet mourners know the flower’s worth
 
Mournful glances and tear-stained eyes
Plagued by death—that great divide!
While rent and twain thy robe in grief
To mark a separation, however brief
 
The darkened clouds and shadows veil
We ponder oft of heaven and hell
A tender flower that bears our grief
Whose stem and pedal bring relief
 
A regal beauty that bears our pain
And drapes the casket, flow’r, and spray
Beset by thorns that pierce and bleed
Yet offering comfort in times of need
 
A field afar from where we are
In rows aligned, both near and far
To lift us up, they bloom and grow
Mid soil and earth down below
Whose roots cling tight to Mother Earth
Yet roses know the mourner’s worth
 
©2020 Brian Duffin