love, i cannot see you through the roses

i have come to find you are like chocolates and spring

delighted at your beauty, yet bitter to my pensive tongue

have i not seen your follies and red roses bloom

 

tell me, which am i to taste?

 

am i to suckle each as a new beginning

[merely a young flower sprouting in winters quiet sunrise]

or bright as the lilies and the daffodils as they hasten the season

to which carries the simple element rendering sinking lungs

 

and every thorn that tears the breath from young flesh

buds life into the dwindling parched grass below

 

love, i cannot see you through the roses;

won’t you show me the way

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