Purple Rose

(dedicated to Gary Drew, the only person who knows what this poem is really about)

Purple Rose

Puckered am I, to steal His rod, coming down, like thunder
Under fireworks sold on lightning, the window's cracked a bit
Reams of winter's bite sting at my back, thundering
Purple blasts, He winks at me and gives a slap
Like she, Mother spewing white another blizzard
Eucaliptus hangs on other's walls, I grunt a chilly grin.

Rolling now is thunder, the rose bends to bloom, I wink
On the parting tide, knowing charm in bolts
She calls to me, to spread a path, seeds are meant to plant
Eager Spring she settles back, and so to, does the purple rose.