This Is My Confession To The Roses

this is my confession to the roses.
I have never forgotten you
since childhood's breathless sighting
impressed you on the pink and cream of my mind;

in each succeeding year and cherished just the same

though your petals
have blown far, far from these demesnes
of fear, of dying for our daily bread

of wondering, wandering  inside my head:

what has the world to do with you
that still, your fragrance holds;
your colours and the beauty of your opening

onto wars; within, without and everywhere
hidden behind faux doors of gold, the merciless.
if I forget you, kingdom of the rose

how will my soul know how to
blossom into death?
or recognize

the breath of God
on waking again.

mary angela douglas 12 april 2016