Many are the gardens,

with color and fragrance.
I was looking for a rose!
Soft and pink,
dancing with the blow,
the naught of winds,
neat and clean,
by a shower of dew.
Partly covered,
in the fresh green leaves.
A bud!
All over the night,
she slept in moonlight,
a sleep so deep,
that when the winds,
removed the leaves,
and saw her beauty,
open and exposed,
the wind was wet.
And the drops of rains,
mild and pleasant,
personified the wind,
in a handsome youth.
And the youth,
when tried to kiss,
the virgin bud,
clouds roared like a lion.
And the lightning,
fell on the conductor,
proudly standing,
on the top of a church.
And the charge of lightning,
entered the earth.
The earth tremmbled,
and tremors,
vibrated the earth.
The youth was frightened.
Vaporized once again,
in merely a wind.
Moon removed the curtains,
dense and thick,
dark brown in color.
When the moon light touched,
the sleeping bud,
she smiled like a goddess,
she opened her eyes,
twisted her petals,
partly open,
for a kiss of someone!
I saw that bud,
in an isolated corner,
shying and hiding,
the outcome of nature,
waiting for someone,
having a writ for the bud,
I walked with love,
and gentle desires,
didn’t touched the leaves,
didn’t touched the petals,
bowed my head,
and kissed the bud.
The bud exposed,
all her petals.
A beautiful flower,
the bud was now.
A rose indeed!

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