Bleeding Rose

                  Bleeding Rose

I see you standing there, my bleeding rose
Before a field of dreams just aching to
Be picked and felt by all that need them
I feel a sort of sadness for I fear I
Will never get to nurture and hold
And caress my withering, bleeding rose
For she is to far, too out of reach
I yearn to pluck her from the earth and sense her dreams, share her thoughts and goals
When shall I reap of the fruits
This season?, Next?
I don’t know
Yet I feel as if my bleeding rose
my sun, my stars and moon
shall be what I need, a voice in the shadows
a whisper in the night, a laugh
a friendly word of advice
a friendly touch,
a love
      Quinn