The Rose
T'was a beauteous morning I stood there adoring,
the florists flowers finest.
From outside I peered as a little I feared-
may come down with a pollen puffed sinus.
That's when I sighted hence truely delighted;
a blossoming rose differentiated.
Dashed in and out to purchase the sprout,
which completely captivated.
Studied it's life every day, every night,
peeling-petals naturally.
With no sense of age though still did engage,
loving and living life's tapestry.
Though something I noticed-the colours were deepest,
the prettiest of all at the later...
Some said 'dying', though I knew from the spying,
The rose near the end, gave the greater.
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