At Dawn, a sad rose
In a lonely, somber pose
Crying “short is the life of a rose,
Today, I wither to fertilizer, I supposed,
The purpose I serve, the life I deserve,
Is to decompose, and be food to a rose.”
She said sadly.
“The sun will shine, in the heat of the day,
I will wither & rain will help me decay.”
A drop of dew, full of life, fresh as the morning,
Heard the despair, of Little Rose mourning
It rolled down the petal, caressing it as if to say,
“Good morning, hopeful one, it’s a brand new dawn
It’s time to blossom, my dear scented bottom,
Put your rosy smile on, like a red rainbow on a green lawn
Its today, live it, dream ahead a day on.”
It rolled down her petal, like a tear,
As if to whisper
“Wipe away the past, before ripe today has passed.
The cankerworm, alas, is nothing but an ass!
But you, beautiful rose, rebuke that pitiful pose!
And look up, pouting, as if to kiss the sky!”
And just before becoming a cloud
“Adieu, ally, I go to the sun!
Pout, I say again, today shall be a wonderful one.
Tomorrow, maybe, more dew will come,
I on another will hum, for hope will rise with the sun.”
Pouting, blossomed, the rose full of hope
Looked up from the dry cracking ground
Straightened her stem & dusted her leaves
Today, days later, though she is manure
She is also a beautiful poem, words, eternal.