I never thought that I'd ever live,
long enough to see a blue rose,
and yet there one was, just sitting,
in the park, where the big oak grows.
I thought if I should pluck it,
as I passed it every day,
but I worried it might wilt in my care,
so I continued on my way.
I truly loved that flower,
it's petals, thorns and sweet smell,
so different, so unique.
How could I not fall under it's spell?
I still gazed at it's beauty from afar,
as I passed it and walked on,
but when I took my daily glance,
I noticed it was gone.
I figured it had been plucked by someone else,
and hoped it would be well kept,
but it was back again the next day,
wilted, appearing as though it wept.
So I walked over to her,
petals covering her eyes.
She didn't notice at first,
then looked at me with surprise.
I told her that I loved her,
and she began to turn red,
that pretty blue rose,
in her calm flower bed.
She no longer wilted,
that sweet rose of blue,
but instead she told me
"I love you too."
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Poetry....yay
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