The Rose


A Rose lay dying on the ground
Where someone had walked,
It made no sound.

The thoughtless deed was so profound
I picked it up
and brushed it off.

I could not think of what to do
I spied a tiny water pool
And layed it down.

I watched as tears were in my eyes
as the Rose revived
Was still alive

Reflecting things of life unbound
That Rose they trampled
in the ground.

by © Quiet1
1 Nov 2003

CHALLENGE

If you feel inspired to make a graphic and matching webset for this poem. Please submit it at Back to Basics.