When roses bloom
I check for imperfections.
A perfect rose is what I seek
An unblemished symbol
Of pure and perfect love
It tarnishes with ease
Love burns britches at both ends.
It kills and drives a man to drink.
Love’s unkind and so imperfect
Why do we yearn it so?
The heart and mind and soul in love
Are enslaved you know
Are the thorns which draw red blood and remind you so you know
The sacrifice entailed to love another so.
It lives for all to see, that even with imperfections
It is still a rose, you see.
A splendid rose, wisest of flowers, elegant and free,
Has just a touch of scent, desired by the world and me.
I look for imperfections
I perfect rose is what I want.
I put one in amongst the dozen, for her to find.
Is all that she will need, to know
A declaration of pure love, by one prepared to bleed.
A bright red rose, unblemished and untouched
To ignite a perfect love,
5 comments:
Wonderful poem! Thanks for sharing! Have a great week!
Hugs,
Lisa :)
Welcome Lisa :)
Roses are my wife's favorite flower. And she gets a bouquet every saturday.
Hi Lady!
Lovely way to start the day...
A bouquet every saturday? That could only be Peter's... ;)
Blogtrotter is showing you Brasilia. Enjoy and have a great long Easter weekend!
I grow them in my garden. I love the wild ones the best because they are always blooming and they smell so wonderful.
I hate cutting them since the flowers last longer on the shrub than in a vase. lol
Post a Comment