Who would think a rose so sweet
Would dry and crumble at my feet
And blooms that scent my night and day
Would steal my heart, then fade away
With petals soft and fondly red
Sweet essence fills my addled head
Then turns to dust before my eyes
Leaving naught, but my surprise
Who would think such thorny vine
Could lift a blossom as divine
And by the stem on which it stands
Could so wrong my offered hand
Such strength and beauty is rarely true
A blessing owned by very few
As 'neath the soil, in winters keep
There sleeps a rose to tear my cheek
Who would think that perfect bloom
Could be a bane, a curse of doom
So fine a sight, yet in disguise
A rose to prick and blind my eyes
A beautifully composed piece, words that both describe the thorns and petals of love.
Beautiful words Leria, I must purchase a garden of roses to keep me 39 forever. Thank you
This is beautiful poetry with a smooth flow and nice rhyme.Loved it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The thorn has pricked me but I was too far from the flower!