Dew Upon the Rose
Once under the rubber moon,
elves wore pointed hats.
And I, a traveler from another star
wrote my resume.
It said,
"This is my resume
wherein I write without a rhyme.
Trust me or not,
it is the same".
Why should I be seeking work
at this late hour?
It is enough to drain away
the years,
to fabricate lies to sew upon my pillow.
Every turn of the road
in this wasteland
reveals a scorching desert,
with no monument in the sand.
Somewhere soon,
during a glad month,
there will be a rose in the desert,
a monument in the sand.
And the air will be filled
with sweetness.
And all who see
will want to taste the dew
upon the rose.
Copyright © Bill Yates | Year Posted 2015
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