The Rose She awakens in the early morning light, Shakes off the dew drops so softly Clinging to her silken petals. Blushes even redder in the early Morning glow of the sun. She straightens up and stretches her leaves Out as far as she can, to show her radiance. And she is the most radiant of them all. Her stem is strong, and thick, and emerald green. Her leaves, flawless and perfectly shaped, Her petals, the color of young girls blushing cheeks, And set in a perfect blooming array. Her perfume, sweet and alluring Drawing even the stubbernest bee. She seemed to be always waiting for the perfect Day when she would be taken and adored for the beauty she was. And on that same day, a young man Bent down and plucked her from her Nesting place in that garden, And carried her to a house, Where he could surprise his true love with her. The rose knew that this was her chance To be seen in her fullest beauty, And so, she straightened herself up, and Seemed to glow, a beautiful glowing red. The boy saw his love and handed her the gift. The rose waited, the moment of truth upon her. A tear fell from the girl's eye. She was confused. Why did the girl cry? Was she not beautiful enough? But the girl fixed the rose in her Golden curls, and threw her arms around her love Embracing him, and the rose realized that the girl Was crying tears of joy. And she was thrilled to be the cause of it. The girl wore the rose in her hair all day, As the boy took her to the park, And on a moonlight stroll by the beach, And the rose smiled as she passed all the other flowers, Showing them that SHE had been chosen For such a special occasion. The girl even left her in her hair that night, And slept all night, forgetting to remove her. The rose again woke, early in the morning With the soft glow of the sun upon her. But today, there was no refreshing dew to drink from, And she woke from the stirring of the girl, In bed, just awakening as well. As the girl got up and looked in the mirror, The rose looked as well to see if she Was still as beautiful as always. She was horrified at what she saw. Her stem, always so straight and green, Had turned brownish and was twisted From being slept upon. Her leaves were ripped, or even broken off. But worst of all, her petals had turned the Color of all the dead flowers that she Had so often seen, and been repulsed by In her garden home. She had used up all of her beautiful perfume. Now, the girl took her out of her hair, And tossed her onto the desk, carelessly. The rose sat there, most of the day, Watching all the flowers outside the window, Realizing that she would never be like them again. The girl had left earlier that day, With her love, she supposed. The one who had taken her from her home, And brought her here to shrivel up and die. She wondered why the girl didn't Just throw her away. Cast her away to die alone. She was ugly. The beauty she once had cherished was gone. What use was she now? The girl returned home later that night With a glow in her eyes. The rose waited for her to come and Be rid of her, now that she was ugly, And what use was an ugly rose? But the girl did not cast her away. The girl picked her up, and, ever so gently Smoothed her petals, and kissed them softly, And placed the rose lovingly on her bedstand, Gazing at it; the twinkle in her eye once again. And finally the rose understood everything. She may be an ugly, dried out, useless flower To anyone else in the world, But to the girl, she was beautiful. To the girl, she was a symbol of The most important thing of all… True love. -Jada Marie Andrews 4-10-98
Reason for writing:
Actually, I was babysitting for the same kids as when I wrote
An Angels Kiss, and I laid my head down and suddenly I
smelled my perfumed oil in my necklace, and it reminded me
of roses, which got me started on this poem... Please
e-mail me and let me know what you think of it... Thanks =)
Birth sign: Capricorn
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