To pick her is to pain, Yet
magnificent in her simplicity,
Her light blinds my eyes, When
A thorn stabs my finger tip,
Unaware my frame betrayed me
When a blood tear falls on her,
A moment transient, Frozen in time,
A blank canvas alight with color,
As she battles for justice, A place to be,
A right to choose, Too unwilling to part
For, what is A Rose without her Thorns?
There she blooms, In all her glory, Tenacious,
A White-Red rose; A Rose with Thorns
Too flawed to be flawless, Too soiled to be dainty,
Amidst a thousand tender blooms,
Why... She outdo them all!
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Author:
Aradhya (
Offline)
- Published: May 28th, 2022 02:46
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan
Comments6
An excellent poem to read. Just amazed how several rose 🌹 related poems are being posted at the site today. Thanks for sharing.
indeed there were a few 😀 thank you for your kind words!
For, what is A Rose without her Thorns?
Love this verse! A very reflective poem. Stems from the theme of perfect imperfections 🌹
yes judy many things are so perfect just because they are imperfect! thank you for your kind comment much appreciated! 😀
Sometimes beauty cautions us to beware. Admire me, but I am my own. A tale beautifully told in lovely verse.
thank you Bella for your kind words!
A rose and her thorns, A great quandary of Nature. Excellently presented, highlighting the contrast of beauty and pain. Some would say the "Love" theme in Nature's own words. Some fresh phrases in your poem: "a blood tear." "a moment transient," "too unwilling to part.' I loved how you breathed life into the rose, making her a living being. Well done. - Phil A.
thank you phil for you kind comment. much appreciated!
Sounds like you're a popular girl. Thank you for sharing. 🙂
you are too kind Jonas, but thank you! 😀
Thorns are the means of defence for the rose. They are meant to prevent others from picking the flower. While bees, butterflies navigate round the thorns, Man gets the last word, with his shears, knives, etc. However we will note that the rose keeps its beauty for a long time if left alone on the branch. It dies fairly quickly after being cut. It is paradoxical that Man loves the rose but still cuts it...Soman Ragavan.
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