The white rose grew from the moons rays
She understood the worlds sorrow
for she was born in shadow
She wept, for a lover picked her
for his beloved
and did not wipe away
the tears he called dew

A puddle formed,
A deep scarlet red morphed,
Beneath me it lay;
Matched the red of my cheeks,
The red of my shoes,
The red of my nails,
There it lay,
The dark engulfing red of the rose,
Such a gorgeous sight,
Such a strong might,
Covered in the pale white snow,
But what is that?
Dripping from my palm?
Is it the same red?
The colour of wine?
It can’t be
It was so free,
Such beauty cannot be so harmful;
It was the thorn of the rose that cut me so deep.

She unravels herself like a rose  
In the palm of my hand.  
Some of her petals break off  
And lay to the side
The pain of growth,  
Making room for something new.  

She looks me in the eye,  
The tension of letting go  
Of reasonable fear.  
Too many lonely nights.  
The crescent moon of every lie  
Hovers over her head.  

Piece by piece,  
She's laid that insecurity in my hands,  
That uncertainty in her eyes,  
Slowly turning into trust.  
Seeing that I didn’t discard  
The pieces of her that flaked off,  
In my hands.  
Regardless of how bad they look,  
They are a part of her.  

She twists and she turns,  
Her thorns piercing my skin,  
One after another.  
With confidence, I don’t have to tell her  
That I am not afraid.  
But I do so anyway.  

The crescent moon that hangs  
Above her head fills out  
And becomes full.  
As comfortable as she seems,  
Fear still lingers.  
No matter how much she  
Lets go,  
She's been let down before.  

In time, my hands will become  
A vase that will protect her from harm,  
And my heart a place  
That will warm her always.  
When the day comes she knows,  
With certainty, that I am not afraid,  
I will still tell her
I am not afraid

I bent my mind like a bamboo tree to experience the fragrance of her soul, and in return, I received a bouquet of flowers sprinkled with the earthly happiness of love. She opened her rosy heart for me to smell and share until the rain as soft as tears, wiped the imprints away forever. Even the splash of golden sunlight, trying daily to flood the void of my stolen heart, could not succeed, for the wound was larger than anything that could heal.

Petals fall and fade,
heart once bloomed socked in the rain,
wounded heart still ached.

In every petal lies a tale untold,
Of grace and power intertwined as one.
A world of wonder, fierce and yet so bold,
Where love and strength unite beneath the sun.
In these eyes – I’ve seen a woman’s world…

___

It’s a rose, enchanting, blooms with beauty rare,
Yet danger lurks within its soft embrace.
A tender touch of love, a whispered prayer,
But I ask if it has the strength to hold its place?

Still in quiet thought, I dwell and muse,  
As a man reflects on such; alas his worldly views,  
My words a burden felt heavy, and steep,  
For in such a world, my voice shan’t speak.

The writer of songs wishes to compose for his lover yet to come,
he asks the night if she will come as a floret in the wind
to caress him as a candle’s light, the lyrical harmony of
his beloved is clearer than the shower of the spheres
upon the deep violet petals, he rests into slumber
as a dreamlike vision appears of her hands softer
than velvet in motion upon the strings of the mandolin,
the gazes of him and her rivet as the one, gentle hymn of their souls,
he harrowly arouses then walks to his thistly rose garden, revelation
arrives to him so he returns home to begin the inking of the symbols
on the music sheet papers, through his symphonies, he
resolves to tell the endless fables of love and tragedy.

In a garden where red flags do love to sway,  
Our pink eyes instead see beauty, but not the fray.  
Though the mix of colour are rose’s gleam,  
The thorns are hidden in a deeper scheme,  
And the sharpness can lead two hearts astray.

Lay me to rest in a field of roses, Where the roots unfurl to my decaying heart, Gracefully feasting on the love I have for you, Further spreading to my brain.
To drink every thought and treasured memory of you, As the sun beams, blooming serenely to the lukewarm touch, Recollecting memories of your tender hug.
The lingering scent of roses, your fragrant echo of memories past. As the sun descends, the petals retreat to a serene slumber, Comforted by your watchful gaze among the stars.
And when the field of roses is gathered by a devoted admirer, The moment he offers them to her, May the flowers bloom and radiate an immense love, A testament to the love I once had for you.

She's just like a rose,
with beauty that pales all others.
Her name, everyone knows,
Her praise, everyone utters.

with beauty that pales all others,
thorns hidden under the leaves.
Her praise, everyone utters,
a danger no one perceives.

thorns hidden under the leaves,
Her influence only spreads.
a danger no one perceives,
filling everyone's heads.

Her influence only spreads,
she waits like a beast in repose.
filling everyone’s heads,
she’s just like a rose.