In the midst of the jungle of my life
There now grows a single white rose
Its beauty far surpassing those described
In all the bard's great prose

As its petals unfold to welcome
The filtered morning light
The beads of dew collected there
Shine like jewels for only my delight

Its fragrance wafts through the air
Calling him who wants to share
The sweetness of the nectar
That had vested only there

The softness of its petals beckon
Him who wants a velvet bed
On which to rest his weary body
And soothe his aching head

Its leaves shine like emeralds
Polished by some magic hand
The wind plays through them
Like an omniscient band

Its thorns await the careless
Who do not understand
Only true love can pluck
The beauty from the land

It is the eternal rose of beauty
The eternal rose of light
Sent to cast off the blanket
That is the darkness of my night



Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Midsummer, in the year 100 MA.