A young rose wilts in a garden all alone,
Til finally a gardener comes and brings her home,
He waters her and weeds out all the bad,
He allows the sun to nourish her from his pad
The Rose grows strong and beautiful,
Not one petal to be called dull,
Though gardener takes utmost care the season turns to fall,
The flower does wilt again it's stem does not stand tall.
How can he allow his flower to die?
How will he carry on?
The gardener begins to cry.
His summer days have gone.
The flower hath given all radiance it had,
All the flourish it could spare,
It dreaded seeing the gardener sad,
So hard to see him despair.
The laws of Nature come to pass,
All good things must end,
And perhaps in memory it's beauty may out last,
For the flower was his friend.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryA collection of poems written by me. Please enjoy. I would love some feed back. Please leave comments. <3
