A broken thorn reminds me of
A bloom that I once held.
And seared upon my memory
The flower’s bloom did’st gracefully
Remind me of how gratefully
I beheld it’s color fair.
And now I know it’s history
From that which I was blessed to see
How joy which did so artfully
Breathe out it’s fragrant mystery
And gave to me, a kiss for thee
That colored Rose did’st spare.