I Plucked a Rose for Megan

I plucked a rose
For Megan
The color of her hair.

Almost fully in bloom,
The inner petals closed
Tightly embracing pistil and stamen.

Swirling wider, larger petals
Brighter, more maturely formed,
Embracing, creating shadows.

Circling in threes,
Each petal unique,
Stronger, more detailed,
Cupping promises.

Reaching outward
More petals open
A rim displaying a kiss.

Five sepals which once held the bud
Now open and proud of the one within.

A strong stem
With leaves weary from life’s journey.

The whole a perfect thing of beauty.

Pages of Time by Connie Case

Pages of Time

When you turn the pages of time
Your fingerprints remain.
They’re stamped on everyone you know,
The prints are not the same.

Impressions are everlasting,
A perception of who we are.
Our nature cannot be hidden
Whether in church or at a bar.

We all know our days are numbered,
Our fatal endings then to be disclosed
And so, sometime in this future
Each in his own way will be disposed.

Then all that will be left of you
Is what you left with them.
For living in their memories
Is all that you have been.

So when your yesterdays are more
Than your tomorrows,
As your children too, reflect the signs of age,
Now’s not the time to be discouraged,
For it is only time for you
To turn the page.

C. Case 2010