Author: Westly Alexander Shaw, Written for John Barber Poem DEATH AMONG THE ROSES As the sun came up over the purple mountains, and Mother Nature was dressed in all of his finest formal wear of warm colors. You had taken your last breath on this planet. A day some may have taken for granted. Only God knows why he took that exact moment of time as fine as sand in an hour glass to call you home. The church bells were ringing in the hour, as family and friends sat near you, and the rectangle, snow colored box, they had place you in. Drifting in the air was the sweet smell of roses, that surrounded you, as if guards on duty. It all blended in nicely with the different food smells that would be shared after your service. I could see your love in the red, your friendship in the yellow, and your passion in the pink roses, that you shared freely while walking on earth. At a glanced you appeared to be sleeping, and like in the fairy tale Snow White, waiting for your true love to come. You reminded me of a beautiful wrapped gift, surrounded by layers of sky blue satin, and dressed in your finest. Yet, I wasn't fooled! You were empty inside of your shell. Death, is just an illusion. A moments rest, and Jesus came and kissed your pale lips, and took your warm hand, as he led you home. It appeared to be death among the roses, but you and I know better.