The Red Rose

The Red Rose

A crimson jewel upon a thorny crown,

The red rose blooms, a beauty all its own.

Its velvet petals, soft and richly dressed,

Unfurl to greet the dawn, a fragrant guest.

From bud to blossom, nature's artistry unfolds,

A tale of passion in a story told.

The verdant stem, a verdant lifeblood's course,

Upholds the bloom, defying nature's force.

The sun's caress, a golden, gentle touch,

Awakes the rose, awakens love so much.

Each petal kissed, a blush of crimson bright,

A beacon burning in the morning light.

The dewdrops cling, like diamonds in the morn,

A fleeting crown upon a rose reborn.

They catch the sun, and shimmer, crystal clear,

A fleeting glimpse, a beauty to hold dear.

The scent it breathes, a perfume rich and sweet,

An invitation, on the fragrant breeze to meet.

A love song whispered, soft upon the air,

A promise whispered, with a lover's care.

The red rose speaks of passion, burning bright,

A love that consumes, with fierce and fervent light.

A symbol of desire, a heart laid bare,

A love confessed, a love beyond compare.

It graced the brow of Aphrodite's form,

The goddess born of ocean's gentle storm.

A symbol then of beauty, ever new,

A love eternal, bathed in pearlescent dew.

Yet thorns it bears, a warning sharp and keen,

That love's embrace can sometimes intervene.

For passion's fire, unchecked and uncontrolled,

Can leave a wound, a story yet untold.

The red rose whispers tales of battles won,

Of heroes bold, beneath a setting sun.

A crimson stain upon a warrior's shield,

A life surrendered, on love's battlefield.

It graced the tombs of those who fought and fell,

A silent tribute, where heroes dwell.

A crimson tear, for love and honor lost,

A memory cherished, at what bitter cost.

The red rose blooms in gardens, grand and wide,

A symbol of devotion, by a lover's side.

A gift presented, with a heart sincere,

A promise spoken, a love both pure and clear.

It graces weddings, where vows are exchanged,

A symbol of commitment, forever arranged.

Two lives entwined, a love that will endure,

A crimson promise, forevermore pure.

The red rose fades, as seasons come and go,

Its petals fall, like whispers soft and low.

But from the earth, a new life will arise,

A testament to love, that never dies.

For in the seed, a promise lies concealed,

A waiting heart, in nature's form revealed.

The red rose's legacy, will forever bloom,

A symbol of love, beyond the fading tomb.

So let the red rose, with fragrance fill the air,

A symbol of beauty, a love beyond compare.

A reminder etched in crimson's vibrant hue,

That love's sweet song, will forever renew.