Beauty of a Rose pt.2 - pipTalk Forums

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Gabriel Frost
Member

since 2002-08-15

Posts 216
Between midnight thoughts

0 posted 2002-10-19 09:14 PM

Bloodrose

Off his gladdened soul went,
Into a blissful day of love,
With the fresh rose in his hand,
Delighting in his caress.
And so he walked  till evening,
Stopping not to rest,
Driven by a hopeful feeling,
That upon descending the craggy crest,
Something had awaited him,
A reason for living...
Which many a finite heart,
Long incessantly to find,
Swept by the winds of fate,
Through the echoing passage of time.
To embrace the will of another,
And see the world through their eyes,
Drinking in their soul like a river,
Till love and soul sublime,
To set his heart by her beat,
Breathing her life’s breath through his lungs,
Bonding to the point of infinity,
With the infinite passion of finite hearts.
So he trod the arduous mountain,
Where nature lay wild amid her streams,
With heaps of rock overlooking the land,
Which envious climbing shrubs would mount to rest.
To view the cots and mid marsh,
Each clambering over the other,
Their twined hair, steeped and sparkling,
Wasting not a sunbeam or glimmer.
Yet they were the safest of foliage,
For many twisted boughs had found his blade,
Laying about the path that he ravaged,
As he cut through nature his tenacious trail.
Soon the sun’s familiar grin,
Had retired from the sky,
And he had reached the valley,
Of the oak, where she did reside,
Named after the great old oak,
Spread across the mists,
Like a guardian of the folk,
Who surrendered their faith to it.
Drained of his strength he staggered,
Till he had found her home,
And serenaded her with amorous verses,
Of his undying affections in words.
Words which fell far short of glory,
Which his heart had scorned to sing,
For so shallow was speech as mockery,
And compared to his love, was it rage.
Yet softly they landed upon her window,
Resting as whispers upon her heart,
Like feathers to ivy or poisoned oak,
Their softness soothed her troubles like balms.
And by the night he swore,
To sing to her till dawn,
Though there rose no moon at all,
Love lit his eyes the more.
Upon his bended knee,
He pledged his love until,
He saw something whist in the breeze,
By her window sill.
As an angel descending,
From the sparkled heavens so bright,
Did her face appear in the window,
And on it the soft glare of the starlight.
Sloe eyed and raven tressed,
With cheeks as cotton draped in silk,
Fair and flushed like daylight swathed in a mandarin blush,
With lips like budding roses pursed and knit,
With fiery redness like a sunset,
Upon the yawning ocean’s sky,
She graced him with her presence,
Undoing his composure with her eyes.
Reason immediately struck him,
And so he began to speak,
For a prize he thought, so priceless,
Would be not won with effort so weak.
My love, he spoke with trembling,
My entire life I have searched,
For one who moulds my being,
To a point of human perfection,
With a perfect love to give.
I’ve had but naught to offer,
Till the day you graced my life,
And made me a perfect lover,
Giving all I have inside.
You raised me from the depths of desolation,
You brought me to life from existence,
But now have I found my worth,
And worthless would be my thanks,
If they benefit you nothing.
With every second apart my love,
I miss you as the sun misses the flower,
In the desolate winter months.
I hunger for your touch,
And find nourishment in your embrace,
Like the thirsting open pores of the leaf,
Drinking in sunlight, I bask in your grace.
My heart was broken first at your voice,
And my breath was lost to your smile,
My will was charmed to your bidding,
And all truth suddenly became lie.
For no perfection such could ever exist,
In a world so broken and marred,
Yet somehow you fulfilled my wish,
And became, at my hearts command.
Let me bathe in your enchantments,
Let my brow be burned in endless passion,
Let me drown by your waves of affection,
And consume you without ration.
Feed me with your naked thoughts,
Like the timorous moth to human hand,
Let me catch it and stroke it’s wings,
Let me soothe it in my palm.
Let my open arms cradle your body,
And my love cradle your heart,
Let my soul drink in your uncertainty,
And my spirit join your innermost part.
My love for you exceeds time,
Yet come my love and we shall be as a rose,
That sees a thousand sunsets,
In it’s single moment of glory.
Our life would be that moment.
The retort was forthcoming,
Your words are sweet my dear,
Your tongue draped in honey,
Dripping from my ear.
Yet should my heart be won,
And your love be my prize,
How would I then face my family,
For I would have set shame in their eyes.
Your kisses burning upon my lips,
Could not feed them as fruit or wine,
Nor could your loving embrace  leave me,
Clothed in purple and silk.
Would your touch drape me in satin?
Or house me in a castle by the lake?
Would this affection buy me horses?
Or carry me to the duke’s ball?
You are lost oh, enamoured one,
And you wish for me to find you,
Yet I have already been found by the Duke of Westyard,
And my life hold no place for two.
His family has high blood,
And I shall be nobility,
We are to be married when he returns from France,
And mother shall be proud of me.
I said I wanted a rose,
For I knew that you would find none,
And by whatever witchery or magic,
In your hand you hold one.
But this is all you have to offer,
A product of the earth,
You show your love in a flower,
Of no material worth.
I felt for you in all truth,
But my logic moves me well,
To shun a prince in exchange for you,
Would purchase only my own hell.
So leave and return no more,
For I am no longer what I was,
You now stand before a princess,
And though love knocks at this door,
I must turn it away.
Now holding a tear from running out,
The lover left his rose at her doorstep,
And she came down and accepted it,
As his final token of love.
For he decided that he would not cease loving her,
Though cruel was fate to him,
And he ran off into the hopeless night,
Running from the pain within.
Lost alas he was,
And he encountered the great oak,
Standing firm and lofty,
Like a pillar of earthen gold.
All despaired he closed his eyes,
And climbed his way up,
And fastened his belt around his neck,
And ceased the pain with his last jump.
Now the fair maiden he loved,
Held the precious rose in her palms,
And of blood had leaked and ran,
Streaming down her hands.
All over her white satin robes,
Did the rose bleed in furious pain,
Till one by one it’s petals fell,
Lifelessly to the carpeted ground.
For a nymph loved beyond self,
And a man gave selflessly his love,
Yet the rose could not survive,
Because the maidens heart loved none.

Bill Charles
Member Patricius

since 2000-07-11

Posts 10619
highways, & byways, for now

1 posted 2002-10-19 09:15 PM

Gabriel - now that's a writing. Very nice story...

BC

Ivy Rose
Senior Member

since 2001-12-29

Posts 1300
MA, USA

2 posted 2002-10-19 09:58 PM

Gabriel...Enjoyed this story poem...about love found and love lost seen through the blooming of a Rose. ***Ivy Rose

FuzzyFrazzledFraggle
Member

since 2002-09-20

Posts 155
Fraggle Rock

3 posted 2002-10-23 12:51 PM

methinks I'm in love *hush* let me have my moment

Consider yourself fuzzed

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