A Rose In The Book

While reliving my memories,
I happen to open a box.
And with it, my brain
Punched all my nostalgic thoughts.

Colourful crafty sheets,
With handsome smiley ink.
And a tinkling blue earring,
I never used, I think.

A letter from him,
Turned ivory to pale.
But the promises in it,
Still shouts the tale.

On digging a little deeper,
Peace finally found my eyes.
That book! Yes that book.
The book of poems that don’t lie.

The book still keeps the poems.
The poems keeps the words.
The words keeps the emotions.
The emotions keeps the cords.

It said protection;
He saved me from the odd.
It said love;
He proved it against the Lord.

It said forever;
And here he is with our kid.
On a Sunday night,
Playing under the sheets.

Something fell from the book.
I picked it with a smile and a tear.
It was a dusty old rose.
I kissed it with a little fear.

While keeping it inside,
I suddenly realised.
I am his rose, and his heart
Is the book where I reside.