Once upon a time – in a garden flourishing
with jasmines, magnolias, daisies, and all sort
of flowers, there was a bud and a gardener
conversing.
And the gardener said to the bud:
“Just for me, you’ll be a rose.
The most beautiful of my garden.
But if you bloom in love with the sun.
I’ll strip you out of your roots.
I’ll cut you from the stem
And I’ll expose you to the world
Until you withered in my living room
Like the many other roses.”
To which the Bud replied,
“Indeed, my gardener,
Just for you, I’ll be a rose.
The most beautiful of your garden.
But if you touch me,
I’ll sting you with my thorns.
I’ll make you bleed…
Until you regret
trying to separate me
from my love,
The sun.”
And thus, the Bud bloomed in love,
And the gardener, did what he promised,
But first, he sting his fingers with her thorns,
To later, cut them one by one,
Until it was just her, part of her stem,
And her petals, withering in a vase
of his living room.
Written by: L.L.
September, 2014
This was written for a challenge hosted by my poetic friend, Saffie.
