Rose


I grow a Rose
To give to you
But its life will soon be through
Cast down to your toes.
Sad is the life of a flower bestowed
Babe of spring, budding, sweet
Returned to Earth, fungi's treat
Ephemeral joy, no more than an hour knowed.
So I will gather seeds,
Children of angiosperms.
Cast out the masters, the tyrants, the weeds
Raise these kids their full terms
You can grow life anew
To nurture, to love through and through
And in doing so
Avoid the cold thorn of the Rose.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem