Stolen
I stole a rose today
It was in someone else’s garden
It was on a bush of other roses
I took it with any thought but desire”

I needed to have it
It just looked so fresh
Lovely;
White,
Petals gently opening to meet the morning
New day
New bloom
I had to smell it
I know, I know, men don’t smell roses
But,
I just had to

I clipped it off
With the nails of my thumb and index finger
It was so light and cool
Just like the morning was,
Bright, light and cool

I held it for a moment in the palm of my hand
Nestled there, protected from other eyes
Brought it up to my nose
Felt its cool petals against my skin
And breathed,
Breathed deeply of its scent

Faint, fresh scent of tea
Perfumed ****** rose, morning chilled
And already ageing, dying.

Sudden guilt overcomes me,
My thievery caught up with me
What if someone saw me steal it?
What if they saw me with it in my hand?
They would know from where I got it

I had to get rid of it
I tossed it into the bushes to hide my transgression
Its loss burns at my shame
Its demise haunts me
Now hidden from all eyes in the shade of its source

No one will see that cool white rose ever again