I Am But A Rose Poem by sylvia spencer

I am but a rose who will bloom again
but at this moment, there is so much pain.
My leaves have turned brown and my
petals gone.I am going to be like this until the
birds come back on song.I bloomed in the sun
and I was the fairest of all; but now all what's left
is my stem on the wall.Soon I will be pruned and left
to the cold but then I will be another year old.
As winter comes to an end, I am almost at my
tether.Battered about by our English weather.
A late frost comes in, just as my buds start to form,
and all my new leaves start to deform.
One day I could wither and all my pain will leave
but I am a rose and I will not deceive.
I must admit I've had a troubled past but the strength
of this rose will just last and last.
I am'The Rose of England'and very proud to be
climbing up the wall and round an Oak tree.
You will see me in full bloom around about June,
but then it's all over which is far too soon.