Whither It Goes
Our rosy love grew fast to bloom,
Burnt in the heatwave of desire -
Young and impervious to doom -
Out-lusted, nothing to admire.
We spurned our tender love, my rose;
Its lustre faded, petals dried,
Fast beating hearts, now hollow, froze -
Nothing but thorns lodged deep inside.
Short-sighted sweet impromptu love!
Strong lasting roots grow underground -
Well nurtured is the rose we have -
And now it blossoms lifetime-round!
March 20, 2023
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