Bring unto me the last rose of autumn

Before as in life it begins to fade away.
For in truth I am as the rose,
Struggling through withered edges holding on to all it knows

Memories linger like dew upon the rose,
Refreshing it as it grows
the leaves behind the sweet essence of
Frangrances born on the wind long ago

When life ceases to bend with the breeze,
When stems crack in dry disdain
The rose cries out to be refreshed, but it too must pass away.

Transversing all seasons, I descend this endless path.
Just as autumn finds me breaking through,
I must leave behind all that I loved and knew,
And pass into endless night still holding on to
Autumn's last Rose

Christine Rex
This was written after the death of my sweet wonderful father who loved growing roses. I miss him everyday. It has been 27years and I will never forget the man who loved and raised me and my siblings.