Whispering Rose
I picked a red rose for my love
So fragile pure and elegant
It mirrored her like hand and glove
Or cloud filled lake, the clouds above
So perfect was the imagery
Rose and Lady, one that day
That as I plucked the bud to me
I seemed to hear the flower say:
I give my life symbolically
A life, for love: but painfully
For as I die I name my price
Your blood, sir you must sacrifice
With that my hand was pierced by thorn
The price was paid, the pain was borne.
The rose I understand you see
The favorite choice of lovers ere
The dawn of ancient history
And herein lies a mystery.
The rose as gift by man to maid
Becomes a potent sentiment
As hidden feelings are displayed
A secred message is relayed.
This message carried silently
My blood, My blood, My blood for thee!
*Note: This was written for the Lady Willowind of Siege as I asked for her hand in marriage. Wedding is Sunday May 28! I am indeed the most blessed man in the realms!
-Damion the Bard