White Flower - Poems by Rose Blanc

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White Flower

Oh flower, sweet bloom, why has thou wilted?

Thy beauty is waning, and thy luster is naught.

Red roses, blue tulips, thine colors have faded.

 All that is spared thee, a deathly forget-me-not.


The water and sunlight, certes twas once sought.

But alas ere the morrow it did swift be in vain.

The flowers and buds, a blight illness they'd got

The keeper in last hope as but one did remain.


A blighted bloom, a pure beauty of desolation.

A forthright and delightful kind of sensation.


A way to find the radiance in the darkness.

A symbol of hope appealing to the heartless.


The white flower.

                                                         - Rose Blanc

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