I Bred a Rose
I bred a rose of color rare
And gave it to my lady fair.
She looked at it disdainfully
Then, laughing, tossed it back to me.
No man, she said, her heart would hold
Lest he applied for it with gold.
That one of her high pedigree
Was not for gardeners like me.
I explained the rose for her I'd named,
But there was no swaying one so vain.
My shattered heart and I went home
And sat there in the gloom alone.
The garden that was to me so dear
I let grow desolate and bare.
Then love and roses proved to me
Their resilience and tenacity.
I woke one day in early spring
To find each blossoming again,
And in a spot where all could see
Bloomed the rose my new love bred for me.
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