The Ballad of Dusky Rose

 

You are an exquisite Dusky Rose, he said. 
Her nose and cheeks wrinkled in distaste. 
He looked taken aback, eyebrow raised. 
What's a Dusty Rose? It sounds kinda grimy. 
No, a Dusky Rose, he said, smile returning.
What's the difference? Tellmetellmetellme.


One is weathered and soiled, ravaged by weeds, 
T'other flowers as the sun recedes--
And the moon takes flight; 
The Dusky Rose gains her color at night, 
Its petals spread, it's nectar sweet, 
The fragrance is intoxicating heat.


I changed my mind; that sounds great!
Good, he said. Let's celebrate with Ambrosia. 
What's that?  Another exotic flower? 
Sort of. It's Nectar of the gods. 
She still didn't quite understand, 
But soon enough, it came to her. 






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