The Wilted Rose.Story Poem. Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

</The Wilted Rose.

A wilted rose recalls to me.
A sad but cherished memory
Of one I loved.
Who loved not me.

I found it accidentally
in keepsakes which were left to me.
By one I loved
Who loved not me.

I wonder why she kept the rose
She had her reasons I suppose.
The one I loved.
Who loved not me.

Perhaps that’s why I never wed.
She wed another in my stead.
The one I loved.
Who loved not me.

I think perhaps she obeyed
A bargain that her father made.
The one I loved.
Who loved not me.

I am convinced that secretly
She loved me in reality.
The one I loved.
Loved me truly.


And that she wed unwillingly
The man she wed instead of me.
Did her duty
Reluctantly..

That’s why she left the rose to me.
I keep it with me constantly.
The only way
that she could say.

What she could not say openly.
The withered rose is telling me.
The one loved
Also loved me.

My life is drawing to its close
I shall be buried with the rose.
Laid on my breast.
My last request.

To those who come to bury me.
The withered rose will always be.
A mystery
To all but me.

Monday,14 November 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.