the story of a rose
A single deep red
dew doused
half bloomed rose
stands wilting
under a fading rainbow.
How can we save it
from the hateful
frigidly passionless
grey clouds
of a world gone stark raving mad?
You take your love filled
kindness willed
warm hearted fingers
and dig a hole around it.
Feel the damp
cold dirt between them
as you lift the dirt
below the rose
out of the ground
and carry it home with you.
You choose a serene blue
newly washed
hand carved
flower pot and put the rose inside it.
You water it gently every day
and talk to it softly
after a long days work
and love it unconditionally.
Relentless time ticks away
day after day
and the rose blooms twice
that year.
It continues to grow
as you cherish it so
and in two years time
you plant its children in your peaceful garden.
That rose may never see another rainbow
or feel the meadows dew
or even ever boom again
but that rose was blessed
because it had you
and I suppose
that you were lucky too.