The Willow and the Rose
Once,
there was a great arcing willow
and an unspeakably beautiful rose
the two were very different,
but they loved each other’s company so.
The willow,
she was strong and limber
with cascading, flowering hair
and she had never known misfortune-
how it really was
or how it felt.
The willow,
she loved the rose,
but she felt there was something she couldn’t quite place her finger on,
something the matter with her rose.
The rose,
she was a brilliant scarlet
so perfectly crafted as to stand out from the rest
but one day her scarlet paled a bit-
a burning burgundy
and she couldn’t quite explain how she felt.
The rose,
she loved the willow,
so she turned away to hide the truth form her
as a few of her petals fell to the ground.
The willow and the rose
carried on, of course
but as the rose paled and wilted,
the willow grew worried about her rose.
No words were uttered on the subject
but it was present all the same
and the willow did what she could
she caressed her with her boughs
to let her know she was loved
and she kept a careful watch
because it was all she could do.
The willow,
she sometimes wept
when the rose looked away
because that scarlet turned to
burgundy
then pink
then finally, a dusty shade
and only time could tell
when or if the scarlet would be revived
but her beauty was omnipresent
for who could not love such a special rose?
Oh,
it scared the willow so
and helpless she certainly felt
for her heart was an anchor
as long as her rose was aching and ailing.
And so,
as much as it pained her,
she waited and waited for that familiar blush to return
always made to watch each sunset with her rose
because time is a healer
but it can also be a thief
and there was just no telling
when or under what circumstance
time and the rose would finish their dance.