Rose petals

We lay under the oak tree in Eldridge Park. We were holding hands. Her long blonde hair was spread along the green grass, creating this whimsical colorful chemistry.
“You know, your beauty really shines in the spring. I mean, you’re beautiful all the time of course, but there is just something special about the spring,” I said.
“Well, maybe because everything is so colorful during that season,” she said.
We heard the voices of children chasing after each other and playing tag. And there was a man that played fetch with his Labrador. There was a group of young men that played soccer beyond the miniature lake.
I was lost in her green eyes. We’d been dating for four years, and I was starting to think about proposing. I’m not sure if she was growing impatient, because she never gave any hints, not that I understood women all that much. I was the blunt type of man that just followed his gut.
She was a kindergarten teacher in Bridge stream elementary school. I worked as a foreman in a carpet mill. There was a huge difference gap between both of our education. She had a bachelor’s in early childhood education, and I just barely made it out of high school, but had plenty of experience in the field that I worked in.
She always talked about her days at school.
“So Justin came up to me today and said ‘I got hit with a baseball in the park yesterday. It really hurts Ms. Gordon,’ so I told him to go to the nurse and ask for an ice pack. Then all of a sudden all of them had a sudden thirst for water. I’m telling you. It was hectic,” she said.
“Aww, that’s so adorable. That age is hard to deal with, but they’re so cute. I can’t wait till we have our own kindergarteners to play with,” I beamed.
She gave me this odd look, as if to say, “Then why haven’t you done anything about it yet?” I grew silent. There wasn’t much to say. I didn’t think that I earned enough money to settle down. Start a family. She gazed into my eyes then said:
“You know, all you have to do is say so and start. I could help.”
“I don’t need a woman to help me stand on my own two feet. I can bring home the bacon on my own.”
“Then why haven’t you done anything? All you did was grouch.”
“I don’t need this. I came out here to have fun and enjoy my day. Please don’t ruin the moment.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that your mentality is so offensive,” she said.
She ran her hand through my hair and softly kissed me on the lips.
“You and I are one Peter. Me helping you when you need it doesn’t make you any less of a man,” she said.
“I know. My mentality is so perverse. I grew up watching my father doing the same thing.”
We left the park at twilight. The evening stars started glowing and the park’s lights started coming on. The moon was still a crescent, like a toddler in its infancy. I parked my 70’ Dodge truck in the back of the parking lot. It needed to be washed since it rained heavily and the driveway to my trailer grew muddy. Simple man. Simple life.
The following day was a Sunday. I went to the jeweler. She always liked white gold and silver. I picked out a quarter carat silver diamond ring. I paid five hundred dollars for it. It was all I could afford. I went to her apartment that night at twelve in the morning.
“Peter? Are you okay? Why’d you come here so late? Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course. What’s that in your hand?” she said.
“Roslyn, would you marry me?” I opened the ring case.
“Oh my god! After yesterday? You caught me by surprise.”
“Will you?”
“Of course I would.”
We married on the Wednesday of the following week. When the preacher said, “You may kiss the bride,” I kissed with such passion, as if it were my first kiss. We married in the afternoon. We went home and made love, as if we had never done so before. We took the next week off for our honey moon; although we didn’t go anywhere. She woke me up the next morning and told me, “Peter. I’m pregnant.”
“I never heard better news,” I said.
“You need to come live with me now,” she said.
“Alright. Sounds like a plan. I wear the pants though.”
“You wear the pants...” she sighed.
I got promoted to warehouse supervisor and got a good raise. It gave me some serious thought about finishing my education. She gave birth to a boy and we named him Charles. He looked a lot like his mother. Same green eyes. Same blonde hair. He got his stubbornness from me though. We didn’t have any more children. I didn’t want any. And she agreed.
The boy grew up fast. He was always in gifted classes from an early age and he graduated from high school and got a scholarship to Emory med school. His accomplishments made me feel like I did something with my life. I couldn’t have done it without her. She was the better half on me. She changed a lot of ill-harbored traditional ideas that I’ve collected from my father. I knew she was always right and the boy grew up to be just as bright as her.
She died young. She was fifty three. Charles was twenty three when she died. He fell in love and got married while he was in college. I was able to support him and his wife until they were able to hold their own. I have been at Mohawk for so long, that I’ve become the general manager of the branch and was well off. Helping my son fulfill his dreams made me feel like I had a purpose for existence. I told him:
“Son, don’t make the same mistake that your father has done. Don’t ever think down upon your woman.”

Authored by me; Sherif Mohamed 2016

Rose petals here and there
Rose petals you must beware

Pretty they may be
Pretty they are not free

Like everything they have a price
Like every toll the fee is precise

One heart for every rose petal
One heart you will never settle

Rose petals here and there
Rose petals you must beware

Me - June 23rd 2016 in about 5 minutes.

Beautiful poetry. I won't say much, there is a magazine for creative writers that I submit my works to in order to get published. You can try to buy an issue or two to get an idea of how it works.
Website: http://thesunmagazine.org/

Best of luck my friend,
Sherif Mohamed