Rose

Rose

It was an early greenish spring

And little lovely birds were singing.

A gentle wind could freshness bring

And willows' osiers were leaning.

They leant towards the limpid stream

And touched its waters, soft and tender.

The sun was shedding bright spring beams,

Which could romantic aura gender.

And in that holy Paradise

Majestic claret rose flourished.

She was a pleasant sight for eyes.

She was a beauty, never tarnished.

Her velvet petals, slender stalk

With graceful thorns and pleasant smelling.

It seemed perhaps, that she could talk

About life, her fate retelling.

She sighed for very handsome guy

With whom she fell in love so deeply.

He told her once: ‘My love, goodbye’