Rose

A rose came calling at my door
where there’d never been a rose before.

Its scent, its sweetness incandescent,
I breathed in, and in again.

Why should this rose, so bright and dear,
choose this very time, this day to appear?

I wondered and reflected
but no answer came to me.

Yet still I admired her beauty
And bent to inhale her scent

Turns out no reason’s needed,
and also no lament,
I opened my arms wide
for love’s soft descent