The Lion and the Rose

The Lion and the Rose

The world is full of tales,

Where they come from, no one knows.

Today we hear the fable,

Of the Lion and the Rose.

Somehow a chance encounter,

Was it accident, or fate?

Brought together these two forces,

For us to deliberate.

The Lion once fierce and feared,

Had grown grey from a deep pain.

Hid behind his mane and beard,

Solitude drove him insane.

A thorn in the Lion’s chest,

Had broke him to his core.

Weaker than a kitten.

Gone, his mighty roar.

One cold night in the jungle,

Sweet fragrance he caught scent.

Under moonlight, he saw her eyes,

The Rose had his heart spent.

Her vines wrapped up around him,

Her pedals stroked his fur.

He thought he should feel danger,

‘Cause this was a trap, for sure.

So light her little leaves,

Massaged him into rest.

He felt no wince of pain,

As they dethorned his aching chest.

The jungle, now a garden,

Bright colors in full bloom.

Sometimes very sad tears,

Grow some sweet perfume.

-Clint DeCamp


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Published by capnclint

Poet, father. Trying to create meaningful work and leave the world a better place.

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