Rose - Татьяна Михайловна Астапова

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early greenish spring

      And little lovely birds were singing.

      A gentle wind could freshness bring

      And willows' osiers were leaning.

      They leant towards the limpid stream

      And touched its waters, soft and tender.

      The sun was shedding bright spring beams,

      Which could romantic aura gender.

      And in that holy Paradise

      Majestic claret rose flourished.

      She was a pleasant sight for eyes.

      She was a beauty, never tarnished.

      Her velvet petals, slender stalk

      With graceful thorns and pleasant smelling.

      It seemed perhaps, that she could talk

      About life, her fate retelling.

      She sighed for very handsome guy

      With whom she fell in love so deeply.

      He told her once: ‘My love, goodbye’

      And disappeared very quickly.

      As for the rose, she stood still

      And faded fast and looked so gloomy.

      How'd it appear he could kill

      Her soul, that her heart was roomy?

      She was crestfallen, but at last

      She realized that life was better

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