The Rose
The flowers unfold
as I pick the rose
walking in the park
way after dark
with my boyfriend.
I lift the rose
as i climb the fence
wondering what the passer-by thinks
of me and my boyfriend.
he lends me a hand
as he stands on the pavement
smiling with his eyes
this handsome man,
my boyfriend.
the passer-by stops
as i begin to laught
happy that we'd made it
having shared another day
with my boyfriend.
the passer-by passes
as we cross the road
holding hands, going home
and i smell the rose
together with my boyfriend.
Beulah
Tue 19th Jan 2010 22:43
hi I should say thanks to all and thanks to the two people I captured in words, see I was the passer--by, and they were such a lovely scene that a poem came on (that's why the passer-by stopped to say hi while she grabbed pen and pad from bag, and then I moved on but kept looking back watching as the finally made it, held hands walked down to the traffic lights crossed the street, squeezed each other and yup, she smelled the rose...and it WAS a rose a yellowish one...lovely scene. I am not a voyeur I am a poet and therefore I love the beauty in life.
I must say they were pleasant to me when I stopped, considering. Maybe they thought I'd report the theft of a rose from the public park, or maybe they were too loved up to even care!
I have performed this peace-so not me- and always people get joy from it; so i do it..ahhh the sacrifice we make for art!!!!!ha ha