Dragon’s Blood and Roses

DRAGON'S BLOOD AND ROSES

Within a bouquet upon the center table

Slightly away from the other flowers

One will find such perfection that if comparing it they are unable

A simple rose bud which does not hide nor does not tower

It’s virgin petals hasn’t even begun to unfold

It is a precious young excellence who’s touch is the softest silk

Beauty... yet beauty of which in every lyric and verse has been untold

Its color of white can be paralleled only to that of milk

Upon that same table one will also glimpse

Several pebbles sprawled atop a burning sphere

From it a crimson smoke of spirals and wisps

The resin melts and bubbles into blood it would appear

It’s entrancing scent is exhilarating

Sizzling and dancing into sudden spice

To its allurement one is lost for it is thusly captivating

Indulging in its luster considering a little will not suffice

It is just now one observes as the smoke assembles with the rose

We do not see the whirls assailing the innocence of the bud

We follow the gentility addressing the invasion with yearning response

It’s petals opening and accepting to the reddening smoke and keeping hold

Soon the petals are enshrouded with red powder

It has opened entirely and granted the spice to penetrate into its core

Reminding one that it is permitted to be similar this flower

To allow a little spice to enter into your center and to explore