- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Rose of Us
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Blossoms growing brighter with every passing day,
the rose of us never wilts away.
Floating through the air are the seeds.
A lone rose stands alone in a garden of weeds.
A lone rose stands alone in a garden of glass.
A lone rose stands alone reminiscing of winters past.
Enduring through the seasons of every short year,
the lone rose has not a single care or fear.
Confronting burning cold and numbing heat,
the rose ignores Autumn's deathly treat.
Some petals are red,
not a single petal dead.
Some petals are white,
what an intoxicating multicolored sight.
Some petals are blue,
saying everything but what is true.
From red to blue,
the rose is ever changing and forever true.
From white to black,
the rose steps forward and proceeds back.
I can look behind,
but I cannot see all the roses signs.
I must stay on the path.
How? I don't know, you do the math.
The rose bends at summer's end.
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