Lincoln’s Rose

David’s song was tending his garden today

Gentle memories for the woman he loved

Every petal caressed with memory

A clip here, a trim there

Here, he snipped

This is the hardiest rose in my garden

Many look like it

Bright red, velvet allures

The Lincoln Rose

Named for the president you know

I like to think it was the last scent he knew

Smell it, you’ll see

It is unique from all others

My father brought it from Britain

Illegally of course, when he came to visit

Things were lax then

He taught me two things my father

Develop a thick skin

Develop a sense of humour

Oh and let strength work through you to grow

Like these roses

As they age they get strong stalks and spikes of stone

And they provide larger flowers with finer perfume

They tell me to see the good

To talk with all

To see the humour, sad and funny

And to present these symbols of love

And for those who are sour

Stay beautiful and spiked

Either they will be hurt and drop you

Or they will learn to understand, become gentle, work around your pain, and celebrate with you.