The Dried Rose
By Agnes Ann Nogal

The crimson rose, dried deep mulberry,
Remains the ideal of perfection,
Holding the love of times past,
The rose does not wither or die away,
Remembering, cherishing the thought:
The red rose of the soul's memory.

Though the chance has passed,
The times have changed, forever,
The rose immortalizes the moment,
Frozen in the time of perfection,
Never to become changed, at least
In the rose's memory.

The reminder of possibilities will remain,
Showing that nothing is truly impossible.
The red, red rose will continue to radiate
The hope and desire that will forever exist.
The crimson rose of memory will also be
The delicate blossom of hope for the future.