A rose should not be awake to hear crickets
and the rustle of Midnight's breeze
as rain drops dance on leaves and eaves

In the quiet moments you can hear a whisper

But then it's gone
but not forgotten

A rose
she needs things
she's really just a shrub
lucky enough to have beautiful moments
between dying and death

She needs room to breathe
yet such tender care

Leave her too long
and she will wither
making it harder for her to return

Tend to her
taking care when you cut her 
because she will bleed

But if your touch is tender
- your fingers on her when she needs you most -
she will bloom beautiful
and she will be yours.