The Rose

The Rose

Tantalized by
her splendor,
he reaches out
to touch the
velvety softness
of her hair

Words, like tiny
thorns prick
his soul and he
draws back,
afraid

The very essence
of her fills his
nostrils, leaving him
dizzy with longing

Finding no voice
his stands alone
his heart pounding
in his chest

Sadly content to
love from afar
as the rarest
of beauty unfolds
daily he prays
for courage

Lynn West
2009