Damask Rose, Rose Along Dog-Rose Poem by Lovita Morang

In dark hour
Damask rose masking
the throny terrain, flower
Thawed Barefooted
march of unknown soldiers in rain;
rustle, tussle the pebbles,
Rock cuts rocks,
tones in treble.

Not a scintilla of truth,
scintillate, a lath forging late blooming;
Why should hatred consume the fruit
fearlessness brooding.
escalate.

It's a lie....
necessitous fights not a heart's pie
It's a lie

In that flashes of light, moon hanging,
being rowed by beloved in the boot camps,
Flicker not, sleep in that ragged loincloth,
When dusty air whips the hurricane lamps.

Wind's shadow fall, seized the fairer stroll,
On a scion of my flesh and blood threads troll.

Cut-off from the cliff,
Of heightened hawkish hazards,
Scoff at me not,
beating the monotony of morning star
Scaffold not, drummimg war time's blizzard.

For, sooner I shall scoop out,
a handful of love from foe's fence;
Is that all for defence?
Borrowed powers, barbwired,
Wireless Messages of man at arms dired.
I heard from the shrine,
of a soldier saint saying, a lore,
in dark hours like damask rose, rose to galore
"Duty beyond death...."
Love melts along,
let not love for me quiver,
all snowed underneath in nest,
in the warmth of your brave breast,
why wrath?

In the waft of wood-cutter's happy hours
Yet, crying up to saviour, for a helping hand,
in strange pale, awaken in misery,
wisheth for loved beloved
thriumph of history in better spirits
Rejoicing, wondorous like damask rose,
In curtain certain rose along an enormous dog-rose.

-Lovita J R Morang