ROSE’S TALE
Red and tall
Around it fragrance fall
Below it thorns and leaves
And fungus that never leaves
Then, soil, cracked and dry
And worms that never die.
Snails and underground trails.
Strange moon
Stranger sun.
The only lover it sees
Are the lying bees
They come and buzz
And sting and suck
And torture as they please.
Until the day that Adam comes
And picks it for his eve.
