The Rose

         

The Rose

  A rose danced in the moonlight,
dark ruby swirled to shimmery rouge
as folds of her gown floated around her.
Elegant.
Soft.

Alas,
as she danced through night shade,
time passed quickly
unravelling her beauty,
as one by one
each petal dropped,
softly fluttering
to the ground,

Leaving her naked in the morning light.

The rose danced at midnight
and died with the dawn.

© Copyright 2009 eyestar~ (1starsong at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.