THE ROSE’S FLAME
A Sonnet.
Aurora’s fire incarnate, flame-rushed rose,
Ravished to deck the nuptials and the tomb,
Those nursling buds within so little room
Conceal the glory only Nature knows.
Come ope‘ those lids; to heaven’s blue disclose
That multiflorous splendour! Earth illume,
Though man may mar that virgin glory’s bloom,
Shatter that candelabrum’s proud repose,
Plunder your fire sublime, its spirit tame
To pamper self....... and soon your sweetness mourn.
Those piteous eyes can then but weep for shame.
Away, grim blade! The glory I was born
To cull has, too, its heart-engulfing flame,
But infinite pity........ and a sharper thorn.
15 November 1970