To –

(She said we should have no expectations.)

This rose, in a garden full of roses 
Not yet in its’ bloom complete 
Beautiful and imperfect 
With edges frayed and lightly burned by the sun and by the rain 
Tilts toward the sun and 
Drinks the raindrops.

(I promised her that I had no expectations.)

There are no truths in this world but pain and beauty 
Our hearts link the two 
And call it love 
With edges frayed and lightly burned by hope and by desire 
What would I expect 
But to watch the rose unfold.