Love’s a Rose

Love’s a rose, isn’t it?
Don’t believe me?
Give it time.

After a few hot days,
give it a cold night.
The petals start to droop,
the edges curl round,
the thrill fades
wondering what happened.

No different than the first
argument that changes everything.
The warmth lingers momentarily,
a reminder of the way you said

Forever.

After a few more hot days,
the petals droop further,
the edges now brown.
Eventually, one falls
and withers
if left where it fell.

Love’s a rose, ain’t it?
The true beauty is in surviving
the season.

Eventually, we pick the right
time of year
mostly when we’re old enough
to fully understand
why they have thorns.

Don’t believe me?
Give it some time.