Winter
Rose
My
spicy winter rose you adorn, viewed through window pane.
I,
the gardener, have pruned your gnarly hard wood canes.
Days
of Midsummer, lowest root stock, dead wood purged.
Your
face open, a single curved petal
now unfurled within cold winter light.
January
flower: gift of floral red extended.
I
awake again to see you. A friend’s smiling face.
But
it is winter. The wonder, the gift;
For you my heart keeps hoping.
Would
I long for your fragrance, in a glass vase displayed?
To
bring you in, caress your velvet petals, inhaling sweetness?
Through
autumn, leaves fell like rain.
Winter
watches still, for you were my Christmas rose.
You
brought joy, what a treasure!
On
dormancy’s stage you hold a place of honor.
Creation waits as your strength flourishes.
Without
a word uttered you sing an aria of wonder.
My
one long stemmed rose growing in winter.