Rose

A July rose is white because it blooms

The red that stains it is my love for you

It brings me hurtful joy from room to room

For the thorns remain and they sting on cue

The sweet air that levitates me is you

A petal from this rose knows much of thee

It says as I pluck it not and does too

And I have come to this porch easily

To knock and wait and cheer for the stingers

That pray on pollen on this summer's eve

With all these roses that I bring to her

Without worries that my mind might conceive

but a big problem quickly is at hand

Petals fall with no one to see them land.