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Rose Bouquet

By John I. Blair

When I rushed into the waking yard
To snip sweet roses for my beloved,
The flowers that seemed so fresh and pure
When I peered from my bedroom window
Revealed at close regard
The ravages of sun and shower.
Spotted beetles, wanton worms
Squirmed beneath my questing fingers,
Showing where they had been feasting
On all the buds and tender leaves.
And when I grasped the showy blooms
With clumsy hands, most I touched
Shattered into spent petals
And took flight to the earth beneath.
But one held firm, a fragrant
High-crowned beauty, dew-dappled;
And that one was all I needed to assure
New delight within our bower.

2003 John I. Blair  

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