A Good Year for the Roses

2025

Was a good year

For the roses

Though

With December’s

Relentless snow

January

Will find them

Frozen

There may not be

Another garden

Without

Fertile ground

To plant

This heart in

I have no interest

In another harvest

Honestly

I see no harm in

Enduring

In this darkness

Afterall

I am an artist

I know nothing

Of farming

There is no

Starving

Without

Disregarding

The pains of hunger

To waste away like

The grains of summer

And remain awake

With disdain for slumber

To dream

Would betray

My destined heartache

The poison

A recommended

Perquisite

The poet

To partake

This acquired arsenic

Consumed

For art’s sake

Just dying to create

Live to grow

Like the rose

And I suppose

I write this prose

Plant these seeds in row

And soon

As everyone knows

There is no such thing

As a ruined bloom

When it’s love induced

It leaves the whole world

Fragrantly influenced

Entranced to continue

To pursue it

I too

Am so moved

That I will get up

And do it

This writing

Written

Only to

Prove it