Their edges are a bit crispy and tattered and the Valentine Roses can no longer hold up their heads.
I’m not about to part with a bouquet if it has even a speck of life in it.
I placed the musty bouquet on the table outside thinking perhaps a little sunshine might brighten them for a last hurrah.
But there was no sun. Instead, the sky darkened and the rain came down in streaks.
Past their prime, these Valentine roses droop their velvety heads.
But these roses weren’t about to waste a good opportunity to glam up.
Like a group of aging women, they donned their crystal and went out one last time.
And I cheered them on.
Once vibrant red and perky, the Valentine Roses age gracefully in their queenly red velvet capes and dripping with jewels.
I’m approaching the age to join their ranks. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I plan on seeing it and, even more so, participating.
You’re never, ever too old to sparkle. Don’t forget that!
