It was only one rose. But it was red.
Eyes downcast she accepted it.
'Thanks Dad.'
He realised he'd been holding his breath.
He'd taken a risk.
But what could he lose?
Things couldn't get any worse.
She hadn't allowed the smallest touch for years
Spoken words of love had been spurned
The shell of pain around her life
Seemed impenetrable.
'I'll get a glass.'
Only one rose every day
But it built a splash of red
That vibrated through the room
He couldn't hold her close
Nor kiss her tears and fears away
She was too bruised.
But where words or touch couldn't reach
Symbolism spoke volumes
It was only one rose
But it was red.
'Though the Bud be Bruised'. When all seems lost God promises a flower.
