#Poetry: The Rose 1975




The Rose

The rose stands in the garden bare

No petals on the ground, no perfume to be found.

Silver frost and sharp thorns adorn her now.

Cold and silent is the rain, Spring a long way off

Memories of long summer days, the heat of the sun

Soft dew on her face, the bees having fun.

Now the warmth has all gone, she stands naked and cold

Waiting patiently all winter, she slowly grows old.

She will not lose her beauty though time comes and goes

Each summer brings a miracle, a peaceful lovely rose…

©Jaye Marie1975

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