On a sunny afternoon
I was in a garden
With roses in bloom
A beautiful garden belonging to a Knight

Pruning the garden he was
And I asked him why,
Why cut them
And not let them grow high?

I then heard a sigh
But not from the Knight
Who was looking at me
With a smile in his eyes

He too heard the sigh
But continued to snip
It is then that I heard
A sweet tiny blip

“Please step aside
You are blocking my light”
But how can this be?
That this flower, is talking to me?

A ruby red rose
Who is talking in prose
Glazing in the sun
Until the day is done

From that day
She’s been blazed in my heart
And she’ll forever stay
In the garden of my hearth

I met many roses
On so many journeys
Many shades
And many grades

While I rested one night
Reflecting on life
I picked up my quill
And began to write

Miraculous rose
Miraculous beauty
The symbol of saints
Whom have finished their duty

Fragile rose
Fragile beauty
Strength and growth
Comes after pruning

Envious rose
Envious beauty
The crown and robe
Of queens and beauty

Loathing rose
Loathing beauty
Pricks from a thorn
Memories of the scorn

Blessed rose
Blessed beauty
Muses of odes
Poems and melodies

After many years
And many journeys
I have now returned
To the home I’ve been yearning

The Lady of the garden
Planted roses of bright yellow
To be the suns of the garden
On gloomy days and even those that mellow

Still the red roses
Reign high and might
But amongst all the roses
I hear one’s plight

A lowly red rose
Whose hue, the lightest of the rest
Sings on prose
But I know best

With a cut she is free
And begins to sing in glee
I hold her in my hands
And together we flee

Down the road we walk
And the land begins to talk
“Lucky rose”,
“Blessed rose”

Her hue is now brighter
And my soul fills with laughter
This is the talking rose
That I’ve been after

I lay her down to rest
Onto the Knight’s resting place
Crimson and bright
Now she’s close to the Knight

Who loved his red roses
As much as his mother
Who bore the name of roses
And to be known, by no other.

Dedicated to my grandfather.
March 2, 2010

Valery Santillana


Advertisement