I am now only posting poetry at wordpress.com

The Unbudded

 

That rose ain’t budded up just yet.

Her splendor

Still does hide.

 

I coax.  I coax.

But all I get

Is thorns for what I’ve tried.

 

That rain,

I hear her coming down

Like diamonds in the freeze.

 

She’s come to snatch

Her roses back

And wilt you at the knees.

 

Don’t wait for that

But if you must,

There’s something you should know.

 

Those roses live

But for the touch

Of springtime’s afterglow.

 

But rain,

Who feels her coming down

Upon a wintry breeze?

 

She’s come to snatch

Her passion back

And wilt you at the knees.