The Rose

The warrior in the way that a rose grows --
Hardfought wild petals an example to all:
Each long, fragile stem boasting armour,
To force even dragons to crawl.
Twisting mankind into knots with its beauty,
Yet bearing its weapons with pride;
True to itself: sex, symbol and sword,
With the sap and the seed hidden deep down inside...
For only the lover to see;
Or me.

Tiny diamonds, so precious, can cut through glass,
Seeds: time's long soldiers, designed to outlast;
Without darkness and violence no gems could ever be...
And great fire can sometimes help build a tree...
Clever eagle, so honoured, that swoops in with skill,
Mother bear, for its loved young, that's ready to kill;
A swan -- wings majestic, can make man afraid,
Gentle, sharp, strong and magically made.

Wondrous rose with its thorns, Angel swan with its beak:
Beauty-disarming workers still deciding on a peak;
Nature's best are made layered but simple in love,
That gives them complexity understood from above;
With perfect ideas inside strong, varied plans,
Nature excelled in the place where she stands --The Rose.

Denise D.