The Poetry Corner

On Plucking A Hedgerow Rose.

By Lennox Amott

I saw on a hedge that was flourishing by A rose that was stirred by the breath of the morn, So smiling and fragrant it looked there, that I Was tempted to seize it, forgetting the thorn. I eagerly plucked it but found to my pain 'Twas scentless and in it an insect was curled, So I flung it away to the hedgerow again And I thought of the joys of this troublesome world.