The Bashful Plant and His Yellow Rose

Anon.

Children laughed and danced with flowers abound;

tickling the bashful plant as they all played.

He wishes to fend the yellow rose around,

as clammy hands pervade where children laid.

But soon the children succumb to the hands

that rob the garden of its colours, but

the bashful plant––small and feeble––still stands.

The rose acquiesces in their demand.

They feign pride and valour as they destroy.

Who knew that creatures of such innocence

and delight fathomed to cheat and exploit?

The lone bashful plant stands in diffidence.

Then children become children again; they

replant, but the garden sprawls in decay.

Photo by Zsofia Feher, courtesy of Pexels.