Poetry by Shiny✨🩵 "The Roses"

Dear Readers, ♥️

This week’s poem, which I wrote last night, is dedicated to my parents.

Love,
Shiny ✨

The Roses          June 5    

This morning, my Dad 
bought my Mom
a dozen beautiful roses.

Hours later, she saw frustration 
on his face
for something she really loved.

In an instant, those flowers
became a gambling chip, 
a pawn in their battle.

She misread him 
and he misjudged her.
I watched it all happen. 

They were both wrong
and they knew it.

Later on, 
or maybe days from now,
after apologies, 
or make ups 
or whatever it takes,
they will make each other laugh
until they both have tears in their eyes.

Probably not about the roses. 

But who cares?

That doesn’t mean it’s all perfect,
or that nothing like this 
will ever happen again.

It means that they have been loving,
and watching,
and hoping,
and trying 
for this very long time, 
not because love 
can conquer or do all things,
but because of their deep care
and respect for each other,

because of all of the fun 
they’ve always had as friends,

and mostly because of the way 
they have been laughing 
this whole time,  

at each other,
with each other,
for each other, 

since the very beginning of it all. 

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