Ros-i-es: mighty and weak.

Under a shield of shining glass,
To help the rays to reach their growing mass
Other destructive elements shut completely out
With bugs and worms never so stout.

Not all the ros-i-es share the protection,
Some given life out in the wild
To fend against all mischief and rejection,
Some failing others amending poor child.

All the ros-i-es whatever their creed or need
Are brilliantly colourful and exquisitely proud,
No matter the stuff that constitute their feed
Ros-i-es and females share the same shroud.

Swinging to and fro braving the wind all day,
With little or no shelter in huge sways,
Little Ros-i-ey cheeks showered in spray,
All creatures around watch in dismay.

Watching you for long whiles standing by
Struggling with every mortal frown,
At times challenging but at times shy
Early morning dew drops streaming down.


Colours all around brightens the field
Their scent all round diffuse,
For all passers from deadly spines to shield
Without least fear of abuse.

Many on a wintry day the urge for survival drops
And burdensome fragility demands surrender,
The red Rose bleeds pulsating shots
At the wayside left by the confused pretender.

Strength generated by beauty muster the will,
Brilliant Ros-i-es, mighty Ros-i-es, exciting inviting on demand
The stronger of the species seeks just fun and thrill
But expertly subdued under the Ros-i-es’ command.

When all is said and done without unduly fumed
And all the Ros-i-es in the garden of creation
Are lovingly tendered, cured and pruned
Respect, trust, love lead all to veneration.


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