Sierra Ramsey

“The Rose

Have you ever loved a rose,
and watched her slowly bloom;
and as her petals would unfold,
you grew drunk on her perfume.

Have you ever seen her dance,
her leaves all wet with dew;
and quivered with a new romance—
the wind, he loved her too.

Have you ever longed for her,
on nights that go on and on;
for now, her face is all a blur,
like a memory kept too long.

Have you ever loved a rose,
and bled against her thorns;
and swear each night to let her go,
then love her more by dawn.”
― Lang Leav