In memory for what should have been Phil Lynott’s 65th birthday – still missed – Legend
The last of the summer rays
blush gently on my cheek.
Tears fall like dew from the morning rose.
The flower blossoms,
the flower blooms.
Slowly it fades
as petals fall
one by one
the spirit
is gone.
I wear my heart upon my sleeve,
I also wear my rose.
Both are there for you to see.
The flower blossoms,
the flower blooms.
Slowly it fades
as petals fall
one by one
the spirit
is gone.
The last rose of summer cries.
The heart beats deathly slow.
The sun has set beneath the skies.
The flower blossoms,
the flower blooms.
Slowly it fades
as petals fall
one by one
the spirit
is gone.
© Black Rose 2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
black rose 1 (Photo credit: Melinda Taber)
