Tuesday, 7 August 2018

A Rose

The bud shows it’s a peek of bright scarlet red
It knows for its beauty it has been bred
Promise of soft petals to open beyond compare
Its needs sun and rain for more to bare

Opening slowly it unfurls its glorious scarlet dress
None can deny it will in evidently impress
Soft petals open and curl back like silk and satin
It holds the crown of horticulture within

It will eventually fade its bright satin dress
But never to look an untidy mess
Even with age beauty cannot be stopped ; it will still last
Standing tall and true till each petal ultimately falls past

No comments: