LaVey Adams Alexander San Jacinta, California

I have been writing poetry since I was a child. I am an active member of my church and love music, travel, and good books. My poetry has been published in local papers, college books and by the National Library of Poetry. I am told that my poetry brings joy and comfort to others with whom I share it. If it helps someone else, it makes me happy.

The Ballad of the Red Rose A sweet young girl lay dying, Her true love by her side, She whispered his name so softly, He wept, he could not stem the tide. But she gently forbade him Whispering "Do not weep so, For I have a favor to ask you, One promise before I go. "I want no blanket of flowers To cover my coffin, you see, But promise you'll place there a red rose To tell of your love for me. "I ask but a single red rose bud, No bouquet nor wreath on a strand, But, e'er they close the lid for the last time, Please, place that rose in my hand." He wished, at that moment, their roles were reversed, He dying, she strong and well still, But she begged this last favor of him So he promised to do her will. "Now, hold me closely, my darling, "E'er they carry me from my bed." As he kissed her gently, she breathed her last sigh, In his arms he cradled her head. When the people gathered to say, "Good bye," He came to her casket to stand, And, keeping his last promise to her, He placed the rose in her hand. Covering her coffin with earth clay Caused a pain he could not abide, 'Till he caught the scent of the red rose And knew she was by his side.

(Ballad of the Red Rose Cont.) As the years rolled past and his hair turned gray, He never was lonely again, For often he caught that fragrance so sweet And knew she was still close to him. Then, one evening, she came with arms outstretched As she beckoned, "it's time, dear, to go." He breathed his last breath and followed her, Through the years he had loved her so. When they found his cold body next morning His face set in peaceful repose, Someone said, "What's this?" and on the floor, Lay the petals of a lovely red rose.

A Special Flower The Lord walked through His garden Where He gently touched each flower. And, as He walked, their perfume Sent forth a fragrant shower. They grew there in all shapes and sizes. Their colors were bright and gay, As the Lord walked through His garden Touching each one on His way. He came to a lovely blossom Whose radiance shone in the sun, But the Lord blessed that flower and passed it. He searched for a special one. He sought not the elegant flower, Most stately, costly, nor grand, But for the rarest of blossoms That reflected the glow of His hand. He looked for the one whose perfume Was shed in a darkened glade, Whose color shone and brought brightness To others who grew in the shade. Then He found it, a fragile blossom, No rare beauty, to speak of, nor grace, But its sweetness extended to others Bringing joy to that sheltered place. Yes, the Lord walked through His garden, Through sunshine and shady glen, And the flower that we called, "Mother", He transplanted closer to Him.

All poems Copyright © 1996 LaVey Adams Alexander. All rights reserved.