*******
nothing's sadder than a rose
plucked before her time
her petals crushed and bruised
and separated from the vine
a rose
is a flower
singular and wild
a rose
is a flower
driven as a climbing child
keep her in the sunshine
offer her up some rain
gently till the earth beneath her
her simple beauty's much to gain
for nothing's sadder than a rose
plucked before her time
her petals crushed and fallen
and separated from the vine
keep her in the garden
offer her up your love
minister to her tender roots
she is fragile as a dove
for nothing's sadder than a rose
plucked before her time
her blood-red petals crushed and broken
and separated from her vine.
*******
I woke up with all of this in my head this morning.
I thought it ought to be written down.
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM MONDAY OCTOBER 1 2018
6:10 AM PST TIME/DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS
AUTHOR/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR
THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD