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A Memento
I opened up a Bible, and there between the pages,
A rose had been secreted, it must have been there ages,
I wondered who had so placed it, displaying still its magenta red,
For remembrance perhaps, or a memento, sweet petal's carefully spread.
I tried to imagine it fresh and new, all that long time ago,
And observing it, quite suddenly, my tears began to flow,
I left it in that Bible, it wasn't damaged in any way,
Knowing someone else would find it, when they felt the need to pray.
poem
by
Ernestine Northover
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