Prison of the Rose

Thorny ridges, brushing back
Getting into so much slack
Much ado with waking time
Not much ringing to the rhyme.

Pristine clutches, diamond digs
Singing for the groveling pigs
Trash talk, pouty, with a glance
Change it all to take a stance.

Rosebush thorny, through and through
Rippling forth comes morning dew
Listen to the ideal take
Wrangling ’round for leaves to rake.

Petals forming, center stage
Thrusting up a brand new cage
To corral us and the mind
They seek mirrors of like kind.