The Blue Rose
My true love asked me for my hand.
Before I answer, I demand
He first must bring a bright blue rose.
"I'll search the world for one of those,"
Was his reply and off he went.
Then many weary months he spent
In searching for elusive blue.
I turned away each offered hue.
As heartlessly, I bade him go
To every flower and garden show.
"Come back with rose for which I pine,
I long to claim rare rose as mine."
His spirits sagged each time I said,
"I do not want a pink or red.
I'll only settle for a blue
If I'm to give my heart to you.
He answered, "Love, I've done my best,
The difficulty of the quest
Has weakened me unto my death.
I've sought blue rose with my last breath.
With these last words, my true love died.
For many days and nights I've cried.
Where it has come from, no one knows
But on his grave a blue rose grows.
For Blue Rose contest. Placed first
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment