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The Rose Petal Man

Rose Petals

By Iosefa ManuPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 2 min read
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If I had a rose petal for every woman I loved,

I’d have a bushel or two—

Fill the petals in a basket, making sure there’s enough

Before I blanket the ground with a few

With each steady pace,

A rose petal is placed

I’d never get lost in the forest

I’d find my way back

No matter how far I trekked,

Making it in time for porridge

I’m known all around as the Rose Petal Man,

Living alone far by the old river dam

When I’d enter the town,

A rose petal would be found

The villagers would scoff at this phantom

I’d deliver my goods

Then off to the woods,

Retreating alone to my cabin—

On one particular day toward the middle of May,

I came across a fair maiden named Summer

Lost in the woods

With a basket she stood

Distraught over a fight with her mother

Their battle was heated; they both exchanged words

She wished she could take it all back

I filled her basket with rose petals then ushered her off for this was the start of her new task

For each step she took, drop a rose petal or two

Until the basket was emptied completely

Puzzled she was for how could this solve

An argument that happened just recently

Despite her doubts,

She embarked on her task with a basket filled with rose petals

As the air chilled, and still no answers For the sun had begun to settle

There she stood

After a grueling walk in the woods

For how did this solve her conundrum

Her soul was still haunted

From that long walk in the sun,

She was famished and quite exhausted

I smiled and said, “Take the basket my friend there’s still much work so do not be daunted. Do you remember the rose petals? Do you remember which ones? Put them all back and then you’ll be done.”

Her expression perplexed clearly vexed from within,

But she left to her dismay

That long journey she walked

All alone in the dark

She searched aimlessly till the next day

Although disappointed for only a few rose petals she could retrieve

She feared there will be no answer to receive

But the hermit knew better and what she didn’t know

She already knew the answer, and it would offer her hope—

“Do you remember those words that you said to your mother? Each rose petal represents each word,” he said to Summer, “Try as you may to take back what was said, it would all be futile in the end.”

Tears flooded her eyes for she finally understood

It would be impossible retrieving each rose petal in the depths of those woods

“Take heed and try harder not to hurt those close to you—for each word used could be a powerful tool. If you choose correctly, you could even heal old wounds.”

Content with her answer, Summer turned back and said, “Is that the same reason why you throw rose petals, my friend?”

The hermit stopped smiling as his eyes began to well, “One day she will forgive and all that was said in the past—until then, I’m cursed each day to take those words back.”

childrens poetry
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About the Creator

Iosefa Manu

I write to let the demons out.

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