Author Information
A Rose
Folder:
The Rose A rose on the table,
Plucked from a garden far away.
Poor beauty,
Born to die.
Does she have a soul?
Does she cry,
For days gone ,
Days of youth,
Growing blissfully unaware?
Does she thirst for the rain,
She once drank so freely?
A rose on the table,
Plucked from a garden.
Born to die.
I have read this powerful poem twice now, and I really do think you ought to consider a sequence of poems about the rose. Your use of metaphor is well deployed, and a sequence following the entire life cycle of the rose would really showcase your obvious talent.
Starward