The Rose:

“Be the best version of you.” -Zoe Sugg

The rose,

The blood red petals across a meadow blows;

Sweet-scented aroma that tickles the nose.

A fiery beauty, a flower so bright,

Has a prickly outside but not one of spite.

The rose,

The symbol of bliss and love,

Carried softly – by the silver dove.

Flower that drives the chariot of love,

A gesture sweeter than heaven above.

The rose:

Apon the grave it doth lie,

Its affixing beauty now rotted; goodbye.

From life to death a rose may bring,

Love and happiness: a beautiful thing.
Please do not copy or reproduce this poem without permission.


Good evening. Thank you for reading my poem; your support is appreciated. I am interested to know if there is anything you would like to ask me, leave it in the comments and I will address it in another post.


5 thoughts on “The Rose:

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