Open Poetry #14 |
What a Waste |
shadow974 Senior Member
since 2001-06-21
Posts 636Michigan |
What a Waste While admiring a rose On a warm June afternoon I noticed a tear Forming under a petal. It ran off the petal And dripped to the thorns below. I was amazed Wondering if this was A tear of joy for the present Or a tear of sadness for the past Maybe anticipation Of the future. I thought, The life of a rose is short. It grew from a small bud Just a week ago Now it is a gorgeous rose In full bloom. In a weeks time It shall wither, die, And be gone. I bent over To enjoy its fragrance. It was heaven's scent So delightful was it That I took a second smell. Another tear fell From the petal To the thorns below. I was ecstatic. The tears were for me. Such joy this rose held Just in being noticed. I reached out And grasped the stem. Suddenly I withdrew my hand In pain In my haste I shook the stem And half of the petals fell To the ground below. I thought to myself, What a waste I can't possess beauty. It's a gift. |
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© Copyright 2001 Daniel Owens - All Rights Reserved | |||
Lady In White
since 2001-02-12
Posts 2799USA |
but...but....your eyes viewed the gift, and keep the memory.... what waste is that? This was good.... |
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ethome Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858New Brunswick Canada |
Welcome to Passions!! You possess beauty within your very words and that's the most important thing of all things....wonderful poem!! The role of poetry is to utter the un-utterable; to open up |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
yes... a waste to try and possess in some way which alters or changes the thing of beauty to suit your needs... but..it seems the true beauty is not missed by you.. Enjoyed this.. nice write |
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shadow974 Senior Member
since 2001-06-21
Posts 636Michigan |
The rose only lasted a short time. It could have been enjoyed over and over again if greed hadn't steped in. |
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Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
but the beauty of the rose, the memory of it, does not fade, even though the rose itself does. . . and therein lies the meaning. . . welcome, and well done. . . -------------------------------------------------------- To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world. |
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