Crusty brown mud covers injured soil
stopping the red roses from blooming.
Shovels pry at the ground
desperate to feel the thorns.

Tortured and torn;
the dirt is slowly dying
as roses roll down hills
leaving trails of red petals.

Staring above;
Enjoying the sensation
Loving the beauty
And fighting the desire to continue.

Calm winds carry voices;
Quickly the petals are washed away
and roses are plucked
as new mulch hides
The abused soil.

Watch the dirt heal
Wait for the chance
Take the shovel
And dig up the red roses
Relish in the thorns
And repeat the damage.

I miss him so much
I feel it in my bones
as they bend and break

Like a bullet
ripping through my skin
I felt the emptiness
make my body its home

I spent 4 months
trying to throw up the remains of you
left inside of me
My hands cold
trembling with the weight of memories
My eyes weary
spilling my final regrets

You brought me roses
but forgot to remove the thorns
and I didn't realize until now
that it was a foreshadow of
this

I once passed by an old lady's garden,
Lined with colored rose bushes, it was like Heaven!
I stopped...I stood, admiring.
The roses were in full bloom that morning.
They were quite tall, like small trees side by side.
Then I noticed other walkers also stopped by.
Beside me, behind me, they were standing,
Sighing, admiring.

Any place, anywhere it stands,
Attention, it instantly commands
Its petals speak of beauty, of fragrance,
To some, they symbolize unspoken devotion.
Its different colors are known to represent
Feelings, specifically, lovers' emotions.

Underneath its hard spiked body, it still is soft.
Its thorns have sharp perfect points
A protective threat, so
inherent,
A powerful deterrent
For those with evil intent.

Its sweet-smelling petals become softer
When held by hands so tender,
To the birds and the bees, they are a teaser,
Butterflies, even dragonflies,
They cannot resist to perch...
We human beings
Can never resist a sniff, a touch,
Love is the stem of a rose, we still dare hold
We disregard the thorns so bold.
In life, there are pricking scares known, yet ignored.
Like the leaves of a rose, we have hidden spikes, our own stories untold,
Our hearts, our feelings are very delicate,
When the arrows hit, ...they're easy to captivate.

But you see,
A rose stands tall
Proud as a concrete wall,
It bows a bit, it gives way
When blooms bear too much weight,
When things seem to always be a prelude
And, we wait for trying moments to conclude.
But when a morning so new
Greets a rose with its cold, fresh dew
Miraculously, it again stands tall,
Proud as a concrete wall.
It survives through the seasons,
"Sleepy" in winter, not at all dying,
Just patiently waiting.
It speaks beyond words, beyond reasons,
For underneath,
It lives.
In its silence,
It survives.

A
rose will
never be a
rose, without its
rough surfaced
leaves and
tho
r
n
......s......
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:::::
:::

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan


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Your thorns are worth the pain
Let me embrace them
For to you, I gave my heart

For love, wants you to be by my side

You walking away is
so much more painful