PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Roses bloomed in every bed in the garden
Scratches from thorns unnoticed rushing through
Just to catch the scent of early blooms
Many happy days in the garden when passed
Her heart skipped, she hid behind the thorns
And danced when he had cleared the cobblestone street
She picked a rose in his honor and sniffed and held it close
One day as she brushed her cheek on a velvet red
She hadn't noticed the strange lad watching her
Howdy miss, he said startled yet giddy
a strange feeling came over her
She was compelled to sit there transfixed
By the limitlessness of the depth in his eyes
His sore brow had fixed upon it a crown of thorns
And when he had seen her it was as if the thorns
Had sprouted blooms and softened, cushioned and lightened
His cares and so in smoothing his brow wiping away furrows
It was a magical moment one that would ever permeate
The length and breadth of their separate lives
This was it! the one defining moment upon which all lovers hopes ride
This was the beginning of a life, without roses
As another gentle man passed the strange lad tipped his hat
And walked out of her sight And she was already aching for him...