The rose rises, rises in the wind <br />And nurtured in its caress vies <br />With its peers scent to shed. <br /> <br />The rose rises, rises in the dawn <br />And in the warmth of the fast-rising sun <br />Erects itself in pride deservedly. <br /> <br />The rose rises, rises still <br />In its sweet surfeiting in the mid-day sun <br />In the honeyed laze of afternoon <br />In the sick beauty of the lassitude <br />Of the fast-coming dusk with stealthy mien <br /> <br />But then it bends the rose will bend <br />Like gleaming sheaves in acres of gold corn: <br />The rose will know the time to bend is come. <br /> <br />And without potion will it sink and slow <br />Into its drowsiness sub-consciously: <br />And sleeping feel the cool of the summer night.<br /><br />Emmanuel George Cefai<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rose-rises-rises-in-the-wind/
