Silky huddle teams the stem,
Seeping drift of sweet pollen,
Fist-tight greed in morning light,
Allures in hues of lovely sight.
Orb rises o'er horizon's curl,
Rose fair plumage gently unfurls,
Now wafts fine nectar on the breeze,
It beckons beasts, birds, and bees.
Wantonly sprawled in heat of noon,
The flower flirts in a midday swoon.
Like a girl grows to womanly charm,
Finds suitors circle in avid swarm.
'Til hapless lover seizes stem,
To be sole owner of floral gem,
A piercing pain retracts from thorns,
Love and grace are in pain adorned.
As days bleed night and back to day,
Thus softly petals wilt, then lay,
Like an offering at the feet of God,
This — rose's dying act of laud.
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