I walked down to the lake
scissors in my hand
to gather some roses
for the bouquet I planned.

The wild rose recovered
it's blossoms heavy with dew
I thought it couldn't hurt
to cut just a few.

I stood back and admired
the color of each one
coming so close
to gathering some,

but each time I came near
scissors at the ready
something happened,
my hand wouldn't steady.

Here the giant stood
over time through the storms
who was I to steal
the flowers that adorned,

this beautiful giant
that stood by the shore
that graced the world
with it's flowers and more.

I had to walk away
from my lovely wild rose
I'll admire it's majesty
from my back windows.

It just seemed a crime
to take a single one
so I left it to continue
to flourish in the sun.

Vintage WhiteRose
(more really old stuff)