Rose,
your beauty,
millions upon millions of petals,
how deep do you go?
Coloring of blood,
feel of velvet,
symbol of love,
though pretty,
like a prey,
you’ve got your defenses.
The way you fade,
into the color of poison,
it warns all the others,
need not inhale,
need only touch,
for with just such,
the little blades will sink,
through their pale thieving hands,
and real blood will flow.
Beauty you can’t touch,
you’re all tricky sirens,
you attract bees,
with your color,
your scent,
your intricate patterns,
enticing,
how you dance with the wind.
Genre: Ode, Love, Flowers
WILDsound Festival 