Wild Rose Poem by John I Nash

In the evening twilight, in the wood by the sea, I have found a delight among the dark trees, brambles, pine needles aground, so profound as to take away my breath.
Nearby stood an ever so perfect wild rose, blood red its color is said, not a petal out of place, nor a leaf turned brown, thorn not to be found.
The moist air hung heavy with its perfumed essence, no yet partaken of, wanting to be consumed, a tune not yet played.
Taking a deep breath I did hungrily devour it, all human feelings devoid of any sadness did smile on such a frail thing that let my soul soar as though it were winged.
Reaching out I did want to possess it for all time, upon touching its beauty a petal did fall and now it did look like another to some not exceptional at all. How mistaken they are for they never saw the perfect wild rose in the forest by the sea.

Copyright: c 12/1/2015