When I first visited my garden
some tender smiles welcomed me.
I went nearer to the origin of the sounds.
The frgrance of the flower
and its bloomed petals
scented in sweet smell
extended a cordial hug.
As an onlooker
my beloved surprisingly
shot her glances at me
from a corner bush
She got angry
for witnessing a more natural and silky sheen,
much better than her own bodily made up scene.
In the melee, I extended my hand
towards the flower, to shake it for greeting
knowingly or unknowingly
the thorn aside stung me deep.
The white rose
turned to blood red colour there after.
Has my beloved's envy made it so
or the ego of the rose shocked my fate thus ?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Honorable winner
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