Silence

Spring Roses of Blooming Decay

As the winter season rolls on past,

They bloom with vibrant hues.

How life passes so fast,

Not giving man his dues.

Winters decay feeds the annual bloom.

Sun's rays of nourishing warmness,

Prolongs your impending doom,

With the fresh awakening from tiredness.

Deep within the earth,

After your roots fed on the dead,

You can brighten a hearth,

Or even a tombstones head.

We frolic in your blooming display,

Hand in hand with words of ardour.

The rising spell warmth's play,

Like thorns, it pierces all armour.

The scent of your delicate fragrance,

Heralds the beginning of spring.

With exuberant displays of decadence,

The birds and the bees do sing!

The folds of your petals defines your form,

Differentiating all roses from other flowers.

Diversity of usage is now the norm.

No longer just for die hard lovers.

Rugged as a flower can endure,

The fading of seedtime forecasts,

A portent of eventual doom is sure,

For so long as spring time lasts.

Fed on an abundance of decay,

By the spade full heaped.

Such beauty that flourishes as it may,

To be cut down and swathed.

Life blooming and growing,

Rising, struggling for survival,

With clockwork timing,

To beat Death is a roses wherewithal.