In a Garden of Roses

 

In a garden of roses

all blooming so bright,

I watched as the clouds came

and later the night.

The night soft and stealthy

steals colour away,

and the birds all stop singing

until the new day.

But the scent of the roses

still fills the dark air.

Unseen though it may be,

their beauty stays there.

After hours of silence

soft birdsong begins.

The roses gain colour,

the cloud cover thins.

In a garden of roses

all blooming so fair,

I welcome the daybreak,

the fresh morning air.

NaPoWriMo 2025, Day Twenty.

Prompt: Your challenge is to write a poem informed by musical phrasing or melody, that employs some form of soundplay (rhyme, meter, assonance, alliteration). One way to approach this is to think of a song you know and then basically write new lyrics that fit the original song’s rhythm/phrasing.

For some reason, I thought of 'On Top of Old Smokey'. Perhaps because I've loved it since I was a child – thoughI'm darned if I know why.