the loneliest rose lightwaveryder: the loneliest rose
a non traditional valentine poem.
The rose garden,
place of great beauty,
a place of pain as well,
two sides of the coin,
never one without the other,
will be seen.
there are tall roses, fair and
graceful,
wide roses, thick and full of
color and life,
narrow roses that elicit memories
of days gone by,
and tiny roses, delicate, fragile,
showing that even when stunted,
the experience of rose-ness is beautiful.
At the very front are the healthiest,
the roses that ooze color and scent,
attracting the passer-by,
inviting one to take it home,
love it, admire it,
In the center, down towards
the bottom, there will be smaller
darker roses, their petals will not
have dew.
at the edge, the roses lean,
trying to catch the eye of the
passer-by, sometimes they will,
sometimes they won't,
C'est la Vie.
in the very back row,
nearest the bottom,
can be found the loneliest rose,
it's color is a deep crimson turning
to violet midnight black,
it's thorns are numerous, touching
one another, nary a hint of
soft cool green on it's stem,
it's a rose that has survived
seasons of harvest, hidden,
hiding, not wanting to be found by
the passer-by, passed over,
left behind, thorny.dark.
this rose waits for one and
one only, it will not give of
it's rose-ness to any other,
the thorns serve as reminders
of seasons past, lifetimes lived
in waiting,
if one looks closely at this rose,
the colors shine in darkness,
the thorns while being many,
are not threatening,
its beauty waiting for
a special ray of the one light,
the one love, to illuminate
the full depth of colour
within.
