symbol of heart desires

A rose, by nature, blooms in grace,

With petals soft, it carves its space.

In gardens where the whispers blend,

It stands, a beauty to transcend.

Its velvet touch and fragrant breath,

A dance of life, defying death.

In crimson hues or blush of dawn,

It greets the world, a silent song.

Each thorn it bears, a tale untold,

Of love and loss, both fierce and bold.

A paradox of soft and stern,

In its embrace, all hearts do yearn.

Beneath the moon’s enchanting light,

The rose unfolds, a sight so bright.

In twilight’s hush, or morning's dew,

Its beauty paints a world anew.

A symbol of the heart's desires,

Of secret dreams and passions' fires.

The rose, a timeless, tender muse,

Inspire, it does, the souls it woos.

So let us cherish what it shows,

The fleeting grace, the eternal rose.

In every petal, life’s refrain,

A song of joy, a touch of pain.