The Golden Rose

in summers garden, a single rose
bears the bite of wintry breath
that drives from heart each echo
of warmth, of love, of hope
gold-hued bloom, now thorned for us
lest we dare forget the fall

once upon a moon-tinged fall
against malevolent silence, we rose
no chill in our air could tame us
we blazed toward life with bated breath
your laughter, then, gave me hope
now all that's left is the echo

each withered leaf mirrors that echo
as from its tree it must fall
yet spring brings to life fresh hope
a warm sun to thaw golden rose
no more to die by frost-bit breath
should love again choose to seek us

sweet summers song warmed us
as we danced within its echo
our steps forbore wintry breath
and let slip into memory the fall
at last our lovely golden rose
seemed to glow with eternal hope

we clung too tight to hope
and though it never left us
each petal from our love-filled rose
shriveled, withered by time's echo
and we remembered, too late, the fall
that heralds winters deadly breath

every memory becomes new breath
now summer cannot guard false hope
that kept hid dark secrets of fall
the sun that enticed its dance from us
has faded now to shadow and echo
but stolen the glow of loves rose

in winters breath, summer mirrored us
we trusted hope, then suffered the echo
when fall let winter slay our golden rose.