The rose in the woods stood little chance
Like the light from the sun hidden by the birch branch
It grew to coming age with a proud seeming-less glance
With smells that filled the air with sordid enchants
Sorted from all the common affairs
The rose knew it's place with beauty a dire affair
To grow so lovely using testing willing time
To guard it's careful petals with thorns from the spine
The rose in the woods stood little chance
Like the winds from the sea whispering soft heard demands
You see a plan was all the rose needed to go
So the plan was that it would sit there and grow
It would compete with the word gorgeous until the stars whined
That this competition was in vain and both intertwined
The thing about beauty that few often see
Is the mirror of truth time takes to decree
Then leaves it to be soft like the pollen hummed by the bee
Soon comes the enhancing strut liquid gold
Hot like a day filling the mold
As this cools off the rose beams back with the wind
To say from a seed I knew just who would win
Without the use of man made design interloping ruining divine state of mind
It grew and allowed a baby bit of dew upon it's skin which renewed
The crystalline joy of red employing man's own sustenance as it's envoy
Then sat there and said with your senses I intend to compel
With your heart you listened with your soul your spirit glistened
With your mind you tried to fathom how on earth rapture became disposition
The rose in the woods with beauty just smiled
Then let it be known it was man who would judge not father time.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
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