A fallen rose by the side of the lake.
Smelling stale, a few petals torn,
Nipped early in the bud.


Probably used to woo someone’s girl-friend,
Or as an ornament for the female head dress.Maybe a rendezvous object,
probably to identify self?


Who knows which womanly heart it filled,
By its fragrance and touch?
And now it lay uncared for,
Sacrificed at the altar of love!

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