The Bud

Color just begins to appear;
The roses' blossoming is near.
Anticipation stirs the blood
As the flower emerges from the bud.

Will the flower reach full bloom
As aroma fills the room?
Will the bud be taken before it's season?
A premature end defies all reason!

Today we anxiously awaited word.
The slow ticking of the clock seemed absurd.
Each opened door brought a start
And I would nearly swallow my heart.

At last we saw a green clad smile
And we know we'd been given another while.
I'll drink in the fragrance while I may.
I'll enjoy the flower's beauty one more day.

I love you Aubrey,
Grandpa Vance