A Poem-The Tireless American Rose

The Tireless American Rose

Eve Gaal

The tireless American rose.

Graced our fallen,

pricked our foes.

A graveside decoration,

saluted by soldiers,

a comfort to widows,

the perfume of angels,

to any discerning nose.

A queen’s bouquet,

a honeymoon kiss,

where petal strewn walkways,

grace romantic getaways.

Glistening with a bride’s tears,

or a lucky graduate’s surprise,

maybe a new mother’s gift,

and those wreaths explode with beauty,

when loved ones die.

The tireless American rose,

seen at parades,

waiting after war.

There backstage,

awarding every star.

A centerpiece at the gala,

a holiday corsage,

there to win,

every battle,

every kind of heart.

With, or without thorns,

Through raging pain,

On altars,

At hospitals,

In the ICU or ER,

where dying breaths remember,

the tireless American rose.