A rose is a symbolic flower
Blazing red, declared passions of fierce lovers
Unquenchable desires, unrequiting want of newfound happiness
Is love or lust for the beauty sang of the rose?

Hold it closer, gingerly for thorns
Easily hurt, red blood, red rose.
Piercing thin skin as a thinly promised heart
Stabbed, broken heart by a beautiful rose.
So full of complexities
Twisting, turning, confusing to follow prettily joined petals
Unsure of the way through the beautiful rose.
Dying beauty, wilting from first touch.
Lovely color fading, now darkness quickly shadowing
Where bright colors once stood, stark in the mind’s eye.
The red temptress, seductress.
Vain abandonment.

A lily is a flower.
Unadorned, unaltered, unnoticed
Until caught, then looked upon again.
And again, again
Drinking in the subtle, slowly intoxicating beauty.
Purity to settle behind the ear for a decoration
Matching the color of the beautiful dress.

Red burns the eye, calling it closer for attention.
Consumes the mind, claiming the thoughts of poets
Despite plain faced flaws.
Plain white, so patient to enthrall the eye
Softly calling, singing out its plans
Perfect in its subtleties.