Several of my readers have asked me to reprint the poem I wrote in 1974. This fiftieth anniversary of writing it seems a good time to do so. When I publish something, I think of one or two of my readers with whom it might particularly resonate. This year I have one reader in mind. I’m sure the person concerned will identify themself. I do not intend to do so.
Whether it is you or another, it comes with love and hope from all of us at Terrific Mentors International
The Eternal Rose by John Bittleston
I watched the bud begin to swell,
firm like the breast a young girl knows
before she turns into a belle,
before this turns into a rose.
The very breath of life is there
shimmering pink from head to toes.
And purest when the breast is bare
and humblest when it’s just a rose.
Full bloom, the open petals seem
so like a mouth, do you suppose
it’s really such a silly dream
to think that one might kiss a rose?
The Summer sunshine stirs my heart.
A longing love my look bestows.
I know that I can never part
from her or from my wondrous rose.
But Autumn brings its quiet decline.
The days draw in to early close.
And must I lose this love of mine?
and must I lose my lovely rose?
Next year, perhaps, the April rain
will bring another bud, who knows?
Another love to bring more pain?
Or, best of all, another rose?
And shall I always look in vain
for love so deep it flows and shows?
No, I need never seek again.
God gave me an Eternal Rose.
24 December 2024
