Rose — New Poems

In the garden’s hush, a crimson rose did bloom,
 Each petal a whisper of love’s sweet perfume.
 Yet beneath its beauty, sharp thorns concealed,
 Guarding the heart that once freely revealed.
 Dewdrops like tears on velvet cheeks lay,
 Reflecting the sorrow of love’s fleeting day.
 A prick of the thorn, a drop of red,
 Echoing the words left unsaid.
 Entwined in passion, both pleasure and pain,
 A dance of emotions, like sun and rain.
 For every embrace, a scar remains,
 A testament to love’s intricate chains.
 Oh, heart of the rose, so tender and true,
 Bearing the wounds of love’s adieu.
 Yet still you blossom, despite the scars,
 Reaching for sunlight, embracing the stars.
 For in every thorn, a lesson is found,
 That beauty and heartache are eternally bound.
 And though petals may wither, and blood may be drawn,
 The spirit of the rose forever lives on.