my boquet of joy

a boquet of roses
sit on my table today
they aren't as fresh
as they were yesterday
though they slowly wither away
yet grow more precious
as each second passes away
for it isn't the roses
but from they came,
that make them exquisite
for the fragnance
doesn't come from the roses
it comes from somewhere deeper
and is a lot more sweeter


the fragrance of friendship
- of love-

of sharing in someone's joy
of being someone's joy
of gaining so much happiness
out of just being there
and of feeling so great
just having someone to care

the roses may fade away
the memories never will
for even after they die
the frangrance lingers still