Life was running perfect on its rails,
Smooth and steady apace,
Till there was an unforeseen turn,
Every rose has its thorn.
The kindest person I ever met,
Added fragrance to my life,
His absence pricks so sharp ,
But every Rose has its thorn .
Dreams so bright near fulfil,
Mesmerised my heart and soul,
Till some awakened me to reality,
Every Rose has its thorn !
There’s nothing virulent in the thorn
Except rare prickle.
Meant to shield a rose from a sinner.
It is the thorn that defends the rose
Permits us to view beauty of the rose.
We find rose and thorn in each relationship
May make you weep or make you mourn.
There is no pleasure without pain
Like the blue skies precede the rain.
The thorns, so sharp upon the stem,
That sharpen as it grows.
Yet still lovely is the flower
Despite the thorns that prick
Just as life and love are sweet
They too have thorns that stick.
But do not fear to live or love,
Life's not exempt from pain -
So pick a rose, you may get hurt,
But you will also gain!
+++++++
March 28-3-2014
Form Free Verse
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third Place win
Contest: Every Rose Has Its Thorn by Kelly Deschler
Every rose has its thorn,
Every person that's born
Is both thorny and sweet as perfume.
So are some when they grow,
As you likely may know,
Naught but thorns, or forever in bloom.
For the bush clad in thorns
The kind gardener mourns,
Yet he cares for them just like the rest;
But the roses that grow
He replants in a row
So the people that walk by are blessed.
If each deed that you do
In a rose garden grew,
Would your branches be roses or thorns?
Would you be on display
Or be hidden away
In the shade of the blackberry thorns?
Would you be but a shrub
That the passersby snub,
Or a rosebush admired by all?
Growing thorn after thorn
Will but heighten the scorn,
But a rosebud is lovely, tho' small.
Every Rose Has Its Thorn
They hide
within the beauty of the roses.
Protecting the delicate petals
from those drawn
to the sensuous scent,
the crimson allure.
They hide
amid the protectors.
Discouraging all advances,
thwarting predatory approach,
singing in the safety
of the hide.
They hide
a beauty draped in darkness.
Shield a fear
with pointed barb,
rebuff advance,
with sharpened wit -
Defend a secret.
They hide
and in their hiding – lie.
Blow soft petaled
scented kisses – hints
of gifts they must deny
They hide
within the beauty and are torn
Between the scarlet of the Rose
and the rust red tips
of beauty’s thorn.
For every time we take a breath
And every time we stop to rest,
To look around at all that grows
Embracing all the love that flows.
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
For every tear of sorrow we weep
The new day of thousands in forgotten sleep,
Unhinged the heart of one more soul
For King or Queen or eternal goal.
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
The last of the tommys lays his wreath
For next time he may lye beneath,
Reunited with friends separated long ago
To re-live the highest high and the lowest low.
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
For every rose
For every thorn
For every darkness
Unveils a new morn