Rosemary
I’ve always loved giving people presents,
The things they would mention during small talk.
It may have been my way of telling them I love them,
Whether they were friends or something a bit more.
And often, sadness came over me,
When no one remembered those small things I said.
Though I know it’s not their responsibility,
To behave the way I did.
Birthdays were a bummer, every year around.
When all I got were random things, anyone could have found.
But one day, someone came into my life,
With the softest soul of all,
And his hugs felt like butter,
His eyes cured my soul.
Once I mentioned rosemary,
As my favorite kind of herb.
I always considered it a flower,
And over others something I preferred.
So one random day, before classes,
He ran up to me and said:
“Close your eyes, I have a surprise.”
And placed something in my hand.
Standing there confused,
Looking after a running man,
I opened my hand,
And saw two sticks of rosemary wrapped in red thread.
The running man was late for classes,
And just turned around and smiled.
“I know you said there’s no place to buy them, but there sure are places where they can be found!”
With a tear in my eye and a smile on my face,
I yelled after him: “Oh you sweet disgrace;
But how did you find them? They don’t make rosemary bouquets.”
He stopped for a second and answered:
“Oh well, since you mentioned them, I’ve been growing them at my place.”
