She walked her dream and looked around
At smallest flowers on the ground
The yellow bees were buzzing by
She spied a rose, and heard it sigh
The tiny drops of dew were clear
And playfully as she came near
The thorns did glistened but obeyed
The hand that once had held the spade
The hand that held a knife to prune
A blossom tender for her room
Did cut the rose, a fragrant scent
She’d not return ‘til this one spent
A sigh of a rose... Love the last stanza especially!
ReplyDeleteDezmond - thank you. I'm glad you liked it. Tomorrow I'll post "Her Thorn".
DeleteA rose by any other name... it surely smells sweet!
ReplyDeleteThat rose bush is in my yard - planted by my Mom some thirty years ago. It's a climber, and taller than me now. It smells so good.
DeleteGreetings human, Dixie,
ReplyDeleteI'm about to take my human, Gary, out for a walk. Before I go, or he goes, for that matter, I thought I should delight you with a comment.
A rose a thing of beauty. You have stated it well. Just mind out for the pricks, my human friend. I know, a thorny issue! Arf!
Pawsitive wishes,
Penny :)
Penny - you pawstive people person - you! Enjoy your walk but don't tire out the old guy!
DeleteThank you for delighting me with your comment and visit today. :))
The sweet smell of the rose eludes
ReplyDeleteFor winter weather now ensues
Depriving me of blossom bliss
Frozen am I by winter's kiss
Leafless trees, void of life
Howling wind cuts like a knife
Grey skies prevail with their daunting gloom
The rose awaits for its time to bloom
Work it Dan - the man!!!
DeleteYes another delightful poem. Don't write poetry much these days. Used to write a lot of it once.
ReplyDeleteHi Jo. My hero was HazelMarie Elliott (Mattie). I loved her poetry and intricate expressions. Though I never had the pleasure to meet her, I've kept all of the emails.
DeleteI'm glad you enjoyed this one also. Maybe you'll post one of your's for old time sake. Thanks again.