Every rose I knew died peacefully,
In the stillness of the room
Or indeed the buzzing gem garden
And rottened and was excluded
And thrown away, unwanted and unneeded.

But the rose of her heart has deep roots,
Never shallow, that absorb water to live,
To flourish and bring joy to your eye.
Although its leaves may be covered brown,
Be cut off in suffering
She will bring the new foliage on, in hope,
Like Ceres - her love is deep

And knowing this and knowing the untruth
My throat hardens when she calls my name.
With pretended smile I always answer
In hope the right time comes
To reveal the spider web
And the flies caught within it.