Life in Pink

The rose, famous among flowers,
its thorns seen as tearing loves,
from the hand of those, outreaching,
bringing, opening hoping,

the bud so tight, so fresh, naive green,
charmed from the black earth,
now revealing hints of dreamed colour,
now opening just a little, la première,

foolishly now to full bloom,
petals outstretched,
before all illuminated in fiery sun,
eau de parfum set free,
drawing in all lovers,

yet si tôt now the petals fade,
they slip to the ground,
naked, standing before her world,
she was loved,
for a brief beautiful moment,
the centre of attention,

now the thorn in another’s hand,
seeking out another’s affection,
la vie en rose,
life in pink,

now past,
and our petals,
lie on the ground,
blow away in the winds,

qu’est-ce qu’on est maintenant?
a rose by any other name?