A rose gave up her secret

A rose gave up her secret

Of its origin - of its beauty -

In the shadow of her crescent -

Fiercely hushed once to me.

She told me of a plan of love

And a Master Gardener who

Has a touch of silver that betrothed

The rose to the morning dew

And described a place in between

Nothing and a foundation -

The design of which is unbreached -

That lies in an unmeasured dimension

But her exact words were lost

To the enjambment of my memory -

Moreover - my comprehension lapsed -

Found lost inextricably.