Boot+Kitty=Poetry in motion
He planted a new rose each year,
In the garden beside the gate.
The blooms blazed forth in rainbows,
Each rose signifying the date.
The newlywed planted a red rose,
As a symbol of the passion they knew.
That year flew by on wings of love,
As the depth of their loving grew.
The next year he planted a yellow rose,
For the remarkable friends they'd become.
Yes. The passion they knew was still there,
But now they weren't two; they were one.
The next year he planted a pink rose,
To show others how they saw their days.
Bathed in the glow from sweet loving,
As their love grew in those wonderful ways.
The next year he didn't plant roses.
She'd grown pale and needed him near.
And though he loved her with all his heart,
She was gone by the end of the year.
The next year he planted a white rose,
In honor of the color she wore.
And each morning he'd go out to see her,
In the white petals blossoming forth.
Though she'd left him far too early,
She was still in the garden with him.
Her blooms softly caressing his face,
As he tended each long green stem.
Each day he'd visit the garden,
Knowing she was waiting within.
The years passed by so slowly,
As he waited to hold her again.
Finally, his long journey ending,
He knelt in the garden with care.
Then closing his eyes, he joined her,
And left the white roses there.