By Nisha K P
O' the mesmerizer Gardener,
I am a little red Rose in your garden,
Born from your land in the unknown
And bloomed on a day of fate,
With a fragrance so mild to catch not your sense
And thorns little wild, but to hurt not your hands.
O' the handsome Gardener,
Water me with love, when the sun is so harsh
And nurture me with hope, when the wind is so rude.
Let the touch of thy hands be so gentle and tender,
As mighty you may seem, and as wise you may sound
For, I am the little red Rose in your garden, hailed as ’The Gardener's Rose'.
The steps of those traitors scare me not
And promises of faraway lands tempt me not,
Just hold me on tight, my guardian Gardener,
And wrap me in warmth, till I wither
For, I am the little red Rose of your garden,
Wishing to bloom till I fade,
And wither away only in thy soil.