Wednesday, October 12, 2016

A thorny affair

I brushed past a pretty rose bush,
upright it grew in the perfumed air.
Hiding beneath was a thorn lying in ambush,
and pricked me causing the skin to tear.

I went too close for its comfort,
losing every sense of mine.
The prick causing a great discomfort,
the blood flowing in a thin line.

The joy of the moment was momentary,
the thorn had its way, and the blood had its.
I lay there in pain and agony,
sitting there gathering my wits.

The rose had another day to call its own,
another day to bloom.
Another day to crown a thorn,
waiting there in ambush.

© 2014 Abhijit Pandit