By John A. Wilson

Perfect in its beauty

With fragrance so sweet,

A blushing red rose

Grows just beyond my reach

In my dreams

I long to feel

The soft and perfect petals

Brush against my skin

But never shall I feel the softness

Of this rose’s touch,

Or hold that lovely rose

In my gentle hands

This beauty blooms for another

Who sees not the flower, only the thorns.

Someone who doesn’t even see

The beauty that is there to behold.

I love this beautiful rose

As no other ever shall.

I dream of a day

When this rose will be mine.