Poems for the Brave

Under Beauty

Today, swaying a little
In the renascent spring breeze,
I noticed the pinnate treasure
Of a teal rose, with black leaves.
And along this tender gift
Staggered a dozen poison thorns,
And if you looked close enough
This rose diminished, forlorn.
I was captivated; first
Second... There was a tremor,
As I grasped my naked knees
And fell into the heather.
You see, though enraptured and upright
Alleviated by the sun,
I knew my cobalt rose was trying
To hide his saddest song.
I brushed his tender teal petals
Chilled by the falling breeze,
And said; "It's okay blue rose,
Your beauty is extraordinary to me."