The Morning Rose
I tried to reach for it's beauty.
Yet, I stain it's white perfection,
With the crimson of my blood.
Of course I could never tangle with it's thorns.
It is freshly caressed with the kisses of a new dawn.
It sways gently,
Letting only the rain cling to it's fragile form,
Like tears, glittering in the skies warmth.
It tickles with the promise that it will someday reach the stars.
I will leave it be, till the moon devours the day.
Though I will always ponder if,
By any other name would it smell as sweet?
Dawn Beauty
It was the striking beauty
Of dawn
Which caught my eye
The glint of early light
Reflecting off the liquid droplets
Accumulated on both leaf
And thorn
This precious flower's ruby lips
Had begun opening as if it
Were yawning
One could just imagine
Each of the layers opening
One by one
Drinking in the day
Growing more beautiful
With time