The First Rose
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Poem by: Anna C. P. Moore
When ideals were shattered and fire surged
And the past was at last exhumed,
Out of a crumbling world emerged
A garden where roses bloomed.
There were plenty of briars, brambles and thorns,
To besiege the wills of the brave,
But amidst the ruins, a flower was born
That blossomed with petals grave.
Alone I would stand to nurture the rose
With the memories of ages past
When all feelings lay in shadows
And all love had breathed its last.
Then, from the past, the future came
And gave the rose its angry red;
No two petals were quite the same
As never the same had two drops of blood bled.
There in the garden, a single rose grew
With the vibrance of a passionate heart;
After calm fell, it gave us in lieu
A chaos so wondrous, an old place to start
© Copyright 2018 Anna C. P. Moore. All rights reserved.
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