“EYE of THORNS”

In the center of a certain garden,
a rose bush waits,
dressed in thorns.

In a maze,
artful flowers dodge ‘round,
the twist, tangle, and thorn.

In pools,
untamed nature reflects,
visceral colors splattered across rippled time.

In pools,
a strawberry girl chases,
her emerald isle eyes.

In a maze,
the––so sweet––strawberry girl,
trembles at the alluring botanical array.
No eyes tarry on,
the twist, tangle, and thorn.

In the center of a certain garden,
a rose bush creeps and crawls,
it is a hunger, a passion, to prick and paint:
wicked white, strawberry sass, and emerald enchantment en masse.
A sugary thing might sate.

In pools,
strawberry succor lies,
a trap with so many petals for lies.

In a maze,
a sweet girl,
is hugged, kissed, and tutored in,
the twist, tangle, and thorn.

In the center of a garden,
a rose bush blooms buds,
white washed and sanguine splashed.
The blood flows––slow––for her.

In a pool,
pricked, pointed, prisoner she gazes,
reproductions of,
the steel gates,
peoples’ passage,
shots of someone else’s summer day.

In a maze,
the twist, tangle, and thorns
circle her emerald eye,
still watching.
Her heavy lid slips shut,
satisfied,
seen all that she can.

In the center of a certain garden,
a naked rose bush blooms.
An emerald rose bleeds to white upon,
the twist, tangle, and thorns.
In a maze,
a pagan congregation cries hymns
to Other Spaces.
In a pool,
A boy chases,
his baby blues.

by Joshua Freeman