Fleetingly it hanged in beauty
Fleetingly it hanged in beauty
and flowered in that summer,
a deep-red rose caught on a thorny branch,
in loveliness, as beauty only comes once
and time and again I was astounded by you;
no elements, drought, rain or sun
could disguise your splendour
and you flowered glorious like only a rose can.
There are thorns that had left marks on my fingers;
I still see that rose, looking somewhat different than before,
but glorious and delicate
and I wonder about your fleeting brightening
if it brings love or pain?
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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