The Fragrant Rose

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

  1. Lady Leo

    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.


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