Here the rose weeps upon the walk
And casts her petals at her pleasure
Perfumes the air of patron’s walk
As easy as the winds mute measure
Here she carpets primal paths
With bleeding crimson drops of tears
And bends to offer beauty succulent
As proffered solace to our fears
Upon the wall and trellis’s beams
Wrapping herself with tenuous meander
She spreads her arms and fingers each ledge
Testing what supports may pander
To her work for blooming choruses
The children birthed from unblanched lips
Ministries of beauties lavished
That lay like dew upon her lips.

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