THE ROSEBUD IN THE EMPTY ROOM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21326, 29 October 1932, Page 4 (Supplement)

THE ROSEBUD IN THE EMPTY ROOM.

By LORNA FINLAYSON M.B.G. Original. The room lay bare and empty, It looked So cold—severe; It held only memories Of people who'd been there; The laughter of their voices, Their steps as they drew neat;, The echo of their laughter The room seemed still to hear. People came and people went, Sundays, church-bell's toll, Then for long the room lay empty Save a rosebud in a bowl. The petals were closed* but opening till It looked out on the world, But it drank in the air of an empty room Ariel its leaves became all curled. It looked out on to the cold, bate room, It. gave a small, slight sigh, It lost its colour and freshness and grace, Then started to wither and die. In later years as she cleaned the room And looked on the shelf by the bed, A housemaid found a china bowl With a rose in it, lifeless and dead. But it still held the fragrance of its charm, The solitude and gloom Which it held in its secret and inner heart * To be shared with tho empty room.