San Miguel de Allende, Writings

Happy Birthday, Rose

I didn’t even know we had roses.

Well, a rose. This one you see above.

It bloomed on Saturday. One of a kind. A lone rose.

It bloomed just hours before the Running of the Roses.

And it bloomed for my Rose,

Who celebrates her birthday on Monday.

Also a one-of-a-kind Rose.

Which raises my once-a-year question:

What do you give to the woman who IS everything?

A woman for whom a rose blooms on cue?

The pandemic has changed what is really important.

Instead of a new dress with nowhere to wear it,

I want to offer her security in an uncertain world.

Instead of a 1,000-piece puzzle of an exotic destination,

I want to offer her unwavering devotion in a fickle world.

Instead of a nifty new pasta maker with seven attachments,

I want to offer her unconditional love in a divided world.

Instead of a store-bought birthday card,

I want to offer her this, a rose not quite as beautiful as her soul.

And my humble words.

Happy birthday, Rose, the woman who is everything.

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9 thoughts on “Happy Birthday, Rose”

  1. bfdsds says:

    Omg Bob! Fabulous! A truly deep amd lovely love poem. Now go get that pasta maker…., Xxoo Susan On Sun, Sep 6, 2020 at 6:09 PM Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More wrote:

    > > > > > > > robertjhawkins1 posted: ” > I didn’t even know we had roses. > > > > Well, a rose. This one you see above. > > > > It bloomed on Saturday. One of a kind. A lone rose. > > > > It bloomed just hours before the Running of the Roses. > > > > And it bloomed for my Rose, > > > > Who celebrates her birthday on M” > > > >

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  6. atheawriter says:

    Happy birthday, Rose. You must really be something to have a husband who writes love poems to you and compares you to a lovely flower. Closest I ever came was a boyfriend who wrote a poem comparing me to a crock of beer. Buen Hecho, Roberto.

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