Rose of mystery

                                Roses


Little rose
All covered in thorns or mystery
Yet you can not cover the smell
The sweet smell of your beauty
Of your inner self, of your soul

Little rose
You hide from me
Amongst the willow tree
Though your smell betrays
The hiding side of you
The sweeter side of you

Little rose
I want to pick you
To keep you
But I know
It would make you wither.

Little rose
I keep you in the soil of your home
To keep you alive
To keep you free

Little rose
I watch over you
Care for you
As you should be

A rose
Covered in thorns of mystery.