The Last Pedal Poem by Howard Johnson

The silence of the day
Allowed me
To gather up some simple thoughts
In the garden,
Next to a simple cottage
Over grown by Ivy
Surrounds all four walls
Grew the summer time rose

I miss getting its sweet fragrance.
Her beauty now devastated.
As The last pedal hit the selfish ground
Painful sight of the barin stem
Leaving only the piercing points of its thorns
Touching her now makes deep wounds
I missed having the summertime rose
Soft and fragrant.
Memories I have
Will carry me

Battling my way
From torment and vacancy
She will return
Under the spring time warmth.
Unearthing the eternity.