Rosebud; A Mother's Day Poem

Doublehex · 05-14-2006, 04:02 AM

ROSEBUD

The finger twirls under the moonlit sky,
the flower of the rose caught between it,
it’s scent overwhelming,
it’s rush of feelings overpowering,
the rosebuds being a beautiful thing under the moonlit sky.

The flower blossoms under the moonlit sky,
like that of a Prince bursting from it’s Goddess’ womb,
the pain she wields unbearable,
but the reward unspeakable,
like that of a rosebud under the moonlit sky.

The Prince speaks his first words under the moonlit sky,
his naïve eyes sparkling like an emerald diamond,
his Goddess’ heart pounding a heart full of love,
the deity being so proud of her descendant,
like that of a gardener proud of the rosebuds under the moonlit sky.

The love of a Goddess is as infinite as the cosmos of heaven,
with the Lord at his throne of invulnerable glass,
his wise eyes studying the realm of his creations,
swelling with pride of seeing the Goddesses doing their wonderful work,
that is as beautiful as a rosebud under the moonlit sky.

The King looks down from the stage under the moonlit sky,
dressed in an robe of purple,
with a crown of knowledge nestled over his brow,
the delicate scepter of knowledge grasped within his hands,
his eyes gazing upon his Goddess,
who is within the crowd of other Gods and Goddesses,
who looks as beautiful as a rosebud under the moonlit sky.

The sky darkens,
and mourners are torn apart at the grisly scene,
their King full of tears in his heart,
the sight of his Goddess dead in her coffin,
her pale skin and smile full of happiness,
her hair full of rosebuds under the moonlit sky.

The King remembers his Goddess under the moonlit sky,
he remembers the love of her,
the way she would let him nestle on her lap,
the way she would melt all his worries away,
how she would give him hope and satisfaction,
of how beautiful she looked,
like a rosebud under the moonlit sky.