Dresses and Rags

The dawn of the day,
brings out the sun,
gently it wakens,
the slumbering beauty,
yawning, the bud opens,
stretching it’s delicate petals,
drinking in the dew drops — that feed it.

Awake too, is the companion,
lanky and loving — firm and supportive,
readily preparing the day’s meal,
sweet as honey — but no more than for a baby bee,
standing alone against the wind,
fiercely battling any opponent,
many a blade to protect.

Radiantly the beauty shows,
shaking off the nights cold grasp,
ruffles of roseate cascade down,
brilliantly grazing the ground,
in a circlet of crimson,
until nothing but sparkles are left,
and the folds unravel sustaining tranquility.

A fumble as a small glance,
to the beauty startles,
the guard beholds, a divine apple.
the defense is dropped; mesmerized,
at the rapture above,
gently carrying the beauty,
careful not to touch — with dirty hands.

Again shedding from the hot sun,
waiting for, the weightless prince,
day after day the others are taken,
standing alone — naked,
bowing down; gazing below,
staring back at the only one there,
weeping because they are together.

Finally noticed and loved,
happily they caress,
one final wind rolls them down,
into the dust and dead,
to everlasting love.
for only,
the rose and her stem.

Published in the 2011 Genesis: Portrayals of Spring Literary Magazine of Student Works from Wentzville Holt High School


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