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The Yellow Rose
May 9, 2013
Yellow rose, when you first bloomed,
There were thorns filling your vase.
The chance at a greenhouse is what I assumed.
Well, that was not the case.
At first I was content with you;
Admired you, and kept you close to my heart.
But soon your perfumed scent turned sour.
I guess I had known it from the start.
Though, it did not matter either way.
You have never belonged to me.
To change that there is nothing I can say,
And now I clearly see
That I was always just keeping a thorny stem,
But I love you still, and yes, I loved you then.
© Jenny H., Trooper, PA
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