Sonnet 130, Oh The Sweetest Rose That Dwells In Forest Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Oh the sweetest rose that dwells in forest
With perfect fragrance and wondrous flower,
That’s blooming fairest in the morning hour
When all nightly worries lie down and rest;
With its colors sweetly the rose is blessed
When they are deep after a rain shower,
You feel the freshness the growth and its power,
Petals flawlessly are trimmed in their best.
So is all life when nothing is to worry,
Days are splendid and nights are gone in moods,
With dreams of futures which are not yet born.
Then dwells each hour and nothing seems in hurry,
Of each feeling and their passionate foods,
No daily worry there’s then there to scorn.