Garden of roses, beautiful and fragrant
And he tried to bring them to her.
Plucked a rose from the fragrant bush
And he rushed the present to her.
She smiled as she held the rose
But a painful sigh overcame her face
A thorn pierced her gentle finger
And she threw the rose on his red face.
To see his lady smile was his motive
Carefully had he removed each thorn
But alas! The one scoundrel remained
And all she saw was only that thorn.
And all that remained was only that thorn!
5 comments:
Garden of roses, beautiful and fragrant
And he tried to bring them to her.
Plucked a rose from the fragrant bush
And he rushed the present to her.
Smiled she as she held the rose
But a painful sigh came over her face
A thorn pierced her gentle finger
And she threw the rose on his red face.
To see his lady smile was his motive
Carefully had he removed each thorn
But alas! The one scoundrel remained
And all she could see was that thorn.
el remained
And all she could see was that thorn.
:) guess someone loved ur poem n repeated it :) all over again!
nice one.. on a lihter note, jus make sure the next time u get her only the flowers! ;-)
jus realised... the 'heaer' to your profile is 'neat' :) playin with words... ;-)
oops thats a HEADER :-P
At times in life when one is overcome by grief and disbelief they are unable to see beyond the immediate horizon even if it means happiness is just a "rose" away. I am sure the love of your life - if I may term it so has forgiven you and hopefully one day would see the rose and not the thorn.
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