Red roses were her favourites; her name was also Rose,
And every year her husband sent them tied with pretty bows.
The year he died the roses were delivered to her door,
The card said ‘Be My Valentine' like all the years before.
Each year he sent her roses and the note would always say,
‘I love you even more this year than last year on this day.'
‘My love for you will always grow with every passing year,'
She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.
She thought he ordered roses in advance before this day,
Her loving husband did not know that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early way before the time,
Then if he got too busy everything would work out fine.
She trimmed the stems and placed them in a very special vase,
Then sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours in her husband's favorite chair,
While staring at his picture and the roses sitting there.
A year went by and it was hard to live without her mate,
With loneliness and solitude that had become her fate.
Then the very hour as on Valentines before,
The doorbell rang and there were roses sitting by her door.
She brought the roses in and then just looked at them in shock,
Then went to get the telephone to call the florist shop.
The owner answered and she asked him if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her causing her such pain?
‘Please try to find happiness while living out your days,
I know it is not easy but I hope you find some ways.'
‘The roses will come every year and they will only stop,
When your door's not answered when the florist stops to knock.'
‘He will come five times that day in case you have gone out,
But after his last visit he will know without a doubt,
To take the roses to the place where I've instructed him,
And place the roses where we are together once again.'