Worth More Than Twenty-One Roses

The flower vendor called up today,
asking for my order of twenty-one roses,
one rose for each year.

The first rose came with a promise
of longevity in its long, deep green stalk-
my simple, unadorned vow.

I learned to evade the thorns of life
while I held you, my red rose, sprinkled
with little white flowers, like children and mother.

We were bound together like a bouquet
of twenty-one roses, artfully hiding
the complexities and compromises of our lives.

Twenty-one years is a long journey
from 'I do' to I still do,
our very own endurance race.

You went from lovely to lovelier.
I will join you to loveliest with this hand
and eyes for you to hold and behold.

I thanked the vendor for remembering:
our twenty-one years is worth
more than twenty-one roses.