The Wild Rose Of Love
Don’t crush the seed that grew the love,
nor trim the vine when small.
Don’t bruise the blossom when it’s young,
but let the petals fall.
The allure of this wildest rose,
the sweetness of the bud;
enchantment brought you ever near,
its thorns brought forth no blood.
The spirit of this innocence,
who can its secret know?
The essence seen of endless love,
if given chance to grow.
A wooden trellis will not hold,
the twining of this vine.
A human hand can n’er control,
nor shape its grand design.
But in the scheme of nature’s realm,
if given space to roam,
know you well it has reached its height
when songbirds build a home.
Marcus Omer got serious about writing after he retired in 1997. He draws his inspiration from the many emotions we experience in life. He has published Of Sunshine and Clouds with iUniverse and The Winding Road with Shadow Poetry. He’s also published in Snippets, The Magic of Words and several issues of Golden Words.