I counted the petals of a red rose,
same as a number of verses in prose.
Soft, luscious, as dreaming clouds in galore,
bringing pink blushes to my cheeks the more.
A tingling kiss, tastes like a sweetened hue.
One petal flew and one went in pursue.
While, the chilling breeze added a color
of tainted crystal red on the flower.
I twirled it, laughed and sang a ho-hum fals.
As it looked so lovely, I blew petals
in bunches, a delight to me… a treat!
How I wish, I was holding twelve’s of it!
Oh, short stemmed roses tied in a bow.
Laces and prints decorated in rows.
The spring goddess, with gaiety, gives thanks.
No such anxiety is seen strengthens.
For me, the beauty of a rose to prove
is a humbled epitome of rage… love.
Under the sun’s glory, a rose glistens.
Such loving kindness, as the day closes.