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The Dewdrop and the Rose
Love is in the morning dewdrop that enfolds his moist embrace
‘Round the newly dawning rosebud as she turns her pastel face
To the glory of the sunrise... then she bids her last goodbyes
To the night-time’s fading shadows... and the splendour of the skies.
In the gleaming mellow sauna of the slowly rising mist
Comes her haunting recollection of the moment they had kissed;
Then his velvet charms en-trance her as they linger and abide
Like fairy seeds of dandelion upon a fairground ride.
As the rosebud gently opens and the dewdrop falls away
With his dying remnants fading in the newborn warmth of day
Glowing petals bloom and shimmer with a beauty rich and rare
And a radiance that, but for love, could not have lingered there.
Somewhere deep within the darkness, in the confines of the night
Love had cast its jewelled sequins in the silver moon’s soft light.
There is power in the healing whose caress all life sustains
He may vanish with the sunlight, but his legacy remains.
He came not with cries of passion, nor with promises of power
But with grace, in love abiding through the silence of the hour.
In her dreams and smiles and sorrows, still his spirit shall remain
As it was from the beginning ... and will surely be again.