Take a walk amongst the flowers.*
STOP! The roses smell.
You can taste their bitter thorn,
worn and forlorn,
the aroma invades, your nose
wrinkles at its dismayed bouquet
an array of acrimony,
feet ceasing their progress.
You regress, digress and obsess
and STOP! The roses smell
like loss. The cost of love gone wrong,
of anguished love songs,
of lives snuffed
like candles in the wind,
You seek to eradicate its intrusion
but it offers only confusion.
Her beauty loses its air.
Take a walk, a better use of time
unless you are six feet recessed
then pay no mind.
But, the roses smell.
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik
*Line from Hershe Moore’s “Stop and Smell the Roses”