The Wild Rose

The wild rose blooms, a simple cup,
With petals soft yet frail,
That catches dew, as sweetness light,
And wafts upon the gale.
In tangled thickets, hidden low,
It weaves a lovely spell,
A blush of life amid the gray,
That speaks of all is well.

Untamed and free, it nods and sways,
With laughter rich and bold,
A petaled promise, fierce and fair,
With stories to be told.
For as the dusk begins to fall,
I see the beauty rise,
In tendrils curled and fragrance sweet,
A dance beneath the skies.

O resilient child of earth, I greet
Your color and your grace,
For in your bloom, a world is found,
That time cannot erase.
Your whispers echo through the night,
A tune of love so clear,
And every wild rose in the world
Is a song that we can hear.

• Charles GD Roberts