These Roses

Time is never tempted by beauty...Beauty grows old too

Roses, these roses

The holiest of memories,

But thorns, those thorns

Beauty with difficulties!

 

Petals will wizen,

But memories shall unfold

Of smoldering sun shines

And of winters of colds.

 

There’s no remedy

To this dire disease!

When these roses grow gray

Tempting they shall cease.

 

Crimson, blood-red,

Vermilion, scarlet;

They smell of eternity,

Never to grow upset.

 

But time’s reigns,

When years are philistine,

Bind and crush them

And away they thin

 

With decaying seams

With wrinkles of age.

Time is merciless;

These roses its message.

Reviews

[Lucy-Mia]

gosh, I am dumbstruck!

[Bonnie Hines]

Wow this poem is amazing! I really like the first stanza which compared roses to beauty and thorns to the troubles that go with it. Its short, but completely conveys is message perfectly.