A Rain Washed Red Rose

One red rose stays blushing in my garden I caught a glimpse of it in the early dawn On the carpet of green, as a lovely dame it does sway Flashing hues of contrast on a dull monsoon day A flower with petals of such delicate contours Yet sheltered by sharp stinging thorns that pierce Rain drops dripping off its soft ruddy face As blood rushing from a wound's open surface Fairer far than anything, one can envision Its petals, woven and spun by angels of heaven Oh symbol of grace, you rock me in delight, And in me a thousand poetic fancies ignite!