The Fragrant Rose, a poem by Gregg Hake
Of all the things I saw today,
The cars, the planes, man’s great display-
None so much did touch my heart
As the fragrant rose.
She sat upon her thorny perch
Like an angel in a church-
Trumpeting her inner joy
Through the dewy air.
I sat beside her for a spell
Thus I came to know her well-
Her velvet robe lay open
As the sun drew nigh.
Then she blushed a deeper shade
As the morning organ played-
A soft and golden prelude
To the coming morn.
4 thoughts on “The Fragrant Rose”
Thank you for sharing such essences. Eternal rhythms constantly invite union with that which is beautiful.
Lovely! I love my roses. I walk among them every day. My favorite time is early morning when the dew sits sparking like diamonds on them.