ROBERT HEWETT MY WILD ROSE
My Wild Rose
We often ignore the wonders that Nature sends our way,
The songbirdS singing, or evergreens on a winter day.
As a young slim boy on a hot and sandy hard life farm
Something bright caught my eye every Spring and summer day.
Along an old wire fence by the hot sandy country road,
A red climbing wild rose always seemed to flourish and grow.
We never gave it food, water or trimmed its many limbs,
Full of stickers sharp and always ready to pierce your skin.
Under its thorny protection Mother Quail and chicks lived
Along with other creatures we often saw under there..
Some people called it a nuisance and tried to cut it away
From along their own fences so clean painted they would stay.
We left our rose vine to find its way along that wire fence.
A show of rich red grandeur it gave us year after year.
Like me it grew some each year covering more of the fence;
Just like me it was a bit stronger than the year before.
Each year it brought us more red color and life for us both.
Robert Hewett SR
August 20, 2011
(From my boyhood)