By: Cal Evans
A flower vendor passed me today,
as he walked by, he had this to say,
“Your beautiful lady, needs a rose,
Make sure of your love she daily knows.”
I sighed and whispered, no one could hear
“My beautiful lady is not here”,
“That she’s not with me makes my heart cry,
Inward I’m screaming, outward, I sigh.”
I bought the rose and I took it back,
Gently pressed it in a book of wax.
There it lies with all of the others,
a reminder of my heart’s druthers.