An English Rose
a poem about simple beauty
An English Rose Garden
Wander down an unkempt lane, where cars are so few,
With June half spent, and summer fruits slowly ripe,
Blue sky and silence, just birds and bees, crazy moves askew.
Lean upon a garden gate, contemplate peace, with briar pipe,
Sweet scent of ancient flowers, draws the eyes ever more to east,
That most sweet and wondrous sight, an English rose in flower bright
Has God created more than this? From bud to full petals wide
All enveloped in such heavenly scent, what act of man can dare compete?
Green leaves show contrast the yellow head, so many parts in simple flower.
Beauty and simplicity, evolved, matching all the painters art.
Mankind strives and fights, raucous bellows in darkest night,
No time to stop and gain such simple delight.
Wind and rain, sky and cloud, birds that sing
making life such a worthwhile thing.
What lasting act of humans, will every bring them close
to the beauty of an English rose?
Warm sun and shinning rain,
fertile soil and tender spring,
what wonders grow from such?
A rose so beautiful it calms my pain,
could art or machine match this thing,
Dear God we thank, so much.
Old skills of gardening lore,
slow patient tending care,
brute strength has no place,
just years and many more,
brings scent so sweet to the fore,
stunning eyes with delight so rare,
in world where artifice rules over all.
Roots grow deeper in the clay
sending growth up to the day
what wonders conjured here
greater than hops in beer.
from base dirt to sweetest flower
wind and sun with rain shower
added to natures magic
take away all thoughts tragic.
would but humans learn to imitate
but they opposite do initiate
beauty turns to slime and murk
when humans set to work.