Tears of a Rosebud

The damsel waits,
For the long winter night to end, and
The warm embrace from
Her beloved,
To make her blossom,
With nature’s gift, to
Debut her beauty, and
Her sweet fragrance, that
Will attract her suitor, her
Nectar, effervescent, ready to spill.


Alas, the night dragged on, and
Cold hand of winter touches with
A deathly kiss, as
She wraps her tightly to
Avoid the chill,
Morning comes, cold and wet,
Her beloved hides behind the clouds.


First winter showers
Run down her cheeks,
As she cries for what
Could have been,
Spring is just a distant dream,
This bud won’t bloom,
Her gardener won’t come,
She cries, as
Death looms.


Photo by author in his garden today(12/12/20) morning.