Tears For a Rose
I strolled along a garden path
as skies threatened with thunderous wrath.
I knew I should find shelter soon.
These storms could be severe in June.
Then lightning split an angry sky
and the gusty winds let out a cry.
My feet froze near a rose in bloom.
The roaring sky foretold of doom.
Distraught, I cowered from circling clouds
and feeling their rage, I wept out loud,
wanting my sorrow to have a name,
knowing the sky was feeling the same.
Winds carry me, I dared to ask,
housing this pain is a grueling task.
Love rain on me, please drench my heart,
cleanse my soul with a promising start.
I screamed to heaven, take me away,
where grays met with black, I begged to stay.
Battered and bruised, hail pounded my skin.
Struggling for courage somewhere deep within,
I reached for the rose, wilted and torn,
the softest petal, the sharpest thorn.
I cried for the rose and I cried for me,
for the beauty that was and never would be.
for the Rhyming Game contest (Joyce Johnson)
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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