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I Dream On The Name Of A Rose

I know a rose unlike any other
It's thorns are long and sharp
It's petals are the color of fresh-drawn blood
It's leaves, a vibrant green

This rose is fragile and vulnerable
I long to protect it somehow
But I can't 'cause it's remote and withdrawn and offset
From my level of reality

Don't get too close to this rose, my friend
It's thorns are painful and mean
Truly my blood drips from its cruel needles
But I know I will always care

There is no rhyme or reason to life
No underlying purpose or plan
Things happen and who can foretell the effects
Of this or that event?

This rose has a name and it's name fills my soul
With longing and anguish and fear
But through all of the pain I maintain my faith, and
I dream on the name of a rose

Robbie Hatley, Friday March 3, 1998


I wrote this poem while lounging in the Huntington Beach Public Library. It is inspired in part by Stephen King's multi-volume novel The Dark Tower, in which a rose is a powerful symbol; and in part by The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupéry; and in part by various personal experiences.


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