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Smelling The Roses


Smelling the roses
As she stands by the fireplace,
Her husband gave them to her
With a loving smile on his face.

He wrote her a little card
And here is what it said,
"Think of me every night, my darling
Before you lay down your sweet head."

She holds the little card
Tightly to her heart,
Tears stream down her face
Because, now they are apart.

He had passed away
Just a few days before,
It was his kindness
She truly did adore.

Copyright Cynthia Jones
Nov.12/2006

Another one of my titles I had written down.

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