When I Stopped That Day To Pick Death's Rose

I heard a little rumor from
a stranger on the road today;
he wore a heavy veil of dusk
to keep the winter's song at bay.

His face was well concealed; although,
his shriveled hands had drawn my sight;
it seemed like they were withering
and, like the moon, a pallid white.

"A little further down this road,
there lies a curse'd patch of grass
obscured by trees to hide its shame;
for that, I know I am to blame.

The flow of time had left that place,
yet still the living wandered in,
until they saw that wicked plant
whose very growth was deemed a sin."

The frigid notes were ominous,
like most of what the old man said,
and quickly did his coal-coat flee
to leave but silence in his stead.

A trav'ler's prank is what I thought,
but further down the road I saw
an isolated trust of trees
with polished trunks and lively leaves.

Surveying past the tow'ring brown,
I stood in awe at Gaia's gate;
if anything, I had to know
how nature could intimidate.

The grass was like an emerald floor,
a regal rug for royalty,
and aromatic jewels stood proud
amongst the scattered shrubbery.

But then, I sensed a mournful soul
and heard a fright'ning tearful call;
at center grew a single rose,
left weeping within wooden walls.

Its petals were like chimney soot,
but had the most enchanting smell;
its stem and leaves were silver clad,
a gorgeous blossom spawned from hell.

Despite the omens I had heard,
there was a certain beauty here.
If such a flower bred disgust,
I'd shelter it, neglecting fear.

There was no trace of bitter cold,
upon return from curse'd land.
I left that world with fragrant sin
clutched tightly in my mortal hand.



My heart gave forth compassion,
when I stopped that day to pick death's rose.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

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June 29, 2017 at 11:34 AM
Michael, My son enjoyed this poem of yours and has chosen it as the poem that he wants to recite for his English homework. As part of this homework he needs to give some "interesting information about the poet" but we cannot find out anything about you! Is there anything that you would be willing to tell us about yourself that he could put in his English homework?
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July 8, 2009 at 8:12 AM
Michael, I was on the edge of my seat. Loved it from start to finish. Simply amazing writing. Love, Carol
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