His True Love Rose
Across the rink that winter evening stood,
against a wall, a rose, in freezing cold.
So striking in her pose, beneath her hood
two cheeks had stolen glow from sunshine’s gold.
Upon this diamond bloom he cast his eyes;
released his hockey stick and ran to greet
his shining rose, by far his sweetest prize
and comfort in the times of his defeat.
And as he came to her, she did not stir
until the crunch of feet on snow she heard.
She limped on damaged legs toward him, a blur
she viewed through lenses thick. . . “Hello,” she slurred.
No limits hold true love. He took his gem,
and held in warm embrace that flower’s stem.
For PD's "A True Love Poem" Poetry contest
|