Red Rose

• Josephine Langford, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2011

Amongst the field of beauty,
always blossoms one alone.
Deepening itself further into
The toils and soils of home.
Indentations to this stem, are unknown
Indents to the heart,
No Red Rose thorn can shield another piercing it apart.

And all the while,
we sit and wait and sit and wait,
-its feat disguised-
hidden beneath the shallow shadows
of the field’s uncountable eyes.

The Blossom, the Growth, and the
Decomposition.
To be or not to be, now that’s, the
Acquisition.