The Red Rose Declines
The red rose declines in the cruelty of time
gentle sunsets fade in the midst
from barely lonely skies,
silver streams die.
What of those days of sweet bliss
the tunes of a symphonic kiss
my soul miss,
and orbs of light are close
in search of emerald nights
the stalks of white ghosts
creeping softly upon shades of grey
the touch of deadly strokes.
Visions of slanted monsoons,
and flawless white pearl moons
hanging above the tides
those opalescent hues of fire.
Fall flaming chariots of deliverance
oceans a glint
billows glistening
in gloaming of earth's tint.
The mystery of the quiet still
shards of glass scattered
across the twilight atmosphere
diamond coated tears.
Sublime, jet stream geyzers
and star night gazers
infuse scientific minds
like eagles soar high.
The beautiful water lily flower,
the Japanese iris,
red bark cypress
22
there traced divine knowledge.
The minerals of the soil,
and treasures of spoil
the naked eye, though it be
finite will see.
Yet seasons come swiftly
Autumn, Summer, Fall, and Spring,
but still the red rose declines
in the cruelty of time.
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