In a garden of roses
I walk a thorny road
Red leaking in tiny hoses
I find an awkward abode.

‘You’re me’, she sighs
‘Certainly not!’ I pray
‘Red! that’s me’, she tries
‘I wither in thorns’, I lay.

‘Here to stay, young man?’
Her fragrance endearing
‘But for the red tan!’
My eyes endlessly cascading.

‘Ever been here before’
‘No, here I’m lost.’
‘Thorny, I was as unsure’
‘Oh, come on! Don’t boast!’

‘I’ll be picked in a day or two’
‘Well, it’s your destiny,’ I smirk
‘I’m proud, I can smile. What about you?’
& again, ‘A day or two. What’s your irk?’

‘I grew up, red out of thorns’
‘I see, but so beautiful how?’
‘Kept clawing until I bloomed’
‘Can’t be that simple, what now’

‘It is and it isn’t, if you get me’
‘I don’t. Am I supposed to?’
‘Find purpose, Mine was the sun to see’
‘For your tenure, Talk wise too’

‘Worthy me, if you get purpose’
‘That I’ll find. I’m not yet you, will be.’
Lazily, she smiles, ‘Oh yes!’
Thereafter, I was red, but bloomy.


15 thoughts on “Red Like Rose

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