Fall plants a seed
and someone waits
and hopes for something new.
Under the grasses
and in the dirt
life is drinking potential in.
The rose blooms
in the spring,
it's petals bright and red.
It outshines even the sun
as the world stops to stare.
The summer bears love
and sitting by the water
and the rose is at its best.
Some are picked and given,
and some are admired in the garden.
Rose, rose,
you tease the night
by blushing out the stars.
You shame the day
by painting color
that dulls out the bare
blue of the sky.
Oh, the winter,
cold and cruel.
It's fingers are frosty
and bitterly
bare
as it strips away innocent life.
Now the rose is dead.
YOU ARE READING
To the World...(A Collection of Poems)
ПоэзияZelda Aurora Gabriel has been writing poetry from the time she was 13. She is now 25. Different from others her age, poetry became an outlet and a means of understanding a world that often didn't understand her. "To the World" is a compilation and a...
