Lady Dressed in Red

Near the picket fence she stood;
A brier green her throne.
Beside the peeling posts of wood
She found her summer home. 

Amidst the weeds, unruly grass 
She beamed in her attire.
All who by her side would pass 
Her beauty would admire. 

'Twas towards the close of spring 
Her regal gown unfurled.
Arrayed in velvet fit for kings 
She smiled to the world. 

In the corner all alone,
In glorious red adorned--
Into rosehood she had grown 
When I gazed at her that morn. 

With dignity and grace
Above the ground she rose.
Lovers' eyes would often trace 
Her firm, majestic pose.

Her form would gently sway
When blew the summer breeze;
At times she hid away 
Beneath the shadow of the trees.

Storms passed by her abode,
And thunder shook the sky.
Streams from the heavens flowed 
But bravely she stood by. 

When birds again did sing
When all was past and done,
Upon her brow raindrops would cling--
Diamonds glistening in the sun. 

On all who near her came
Her fragrance she bestowed;
Her sweetness reached the nearby lane,
And wafted down the country road. 

Birds and bees and butterflies 
Her company would keep. 
The moon would guard her from the sky
While the world was fast asleep. 

Weeks and months had come and gone,
Now colder were the days;
The autumn nights were long
As summer slipped away.

We soon would hear the blue jay's call;
A different scent was in the air.
The yellow leaves began to fall,
And trees were left so bare.

It was then I went to see
The lady dressed in red.
But she did not beckon me,
For she sadly hung her head.

Winter was her greatest fear;
It seemed she tried to hide her face,
For she did not want me near 
Lest I should witness her disgrace.

She would lose her velvet gown
So dearly loved by all.
Instead of red it would be brown,
To the ground it then would fall.

Knowing soon she’d yield to sleep
In winter's cold and strong embrace.
I pledged to her I'd ever keep
The memories of her beauty and grace.

In silent grief she bowed her head,
Yet with dignity she stood
As she prepared her thorny bed
Beside those old, white posts of wood.

Yusita

~ "Change the world with your pen. Touch souls with your words, and awaken cold, slumbering hearts with the warm, powerful rays of poetry." -Yusita

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