SCOTTISH THISTLE
Lovely Scottish Thistle
Painted with shades of purple
You are so tempting and also showy
When I see you I want to whistle,
But, I can't touch you because of your thorn,
My eyes would be elated, but my fingers would mourn.
If ever so gently I could hold your head
Then I could pluck you for my vase,
Then I could paint you and romance you
But, when I held you my fingers they bled.
In pain I am in, while you are in my clutch,
Is beauty meant to be seen and never touched?
Now on the ground the Scottish thistle lies
For its beauty I took its life
The red of my blood covers the purplish Thistle
It is gone and a part of me also dies,
Nature created a beauty for us all to see,
But, I wanted beauty to be owned by only me.
Randy L.McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting and enchanting. Enjoyed the read!