Rose Bowed Down

She stood tall with her back to the wall,

Gracefully and cheerfully with peachy roses on display.

She stretched up to the sky, as if about to fly,

But her feet were firmly rooted to the soil,

Stretching out her branches, like arms, in a wide embrace. 

She clung with tenacity to the trellis that was her support,

Weaving her branches 

out and in, 

in and out,

To hold on tight,

To keep upright. 

Then one day, out of the blue, the tellis lost its grip, and came adrift, from the wall on which it had been mounted.

Now, no longer the support on which she so relied,

The trellis had become a burden,

Which weighed her down - 

She silently cried.

Bowed down low,

bowed but not broken,

She yearned to be relieved of the heavy weight that bent her.

There was only one solution, 

So every branch and stem that weaved about the trellis was trimmed,

Freeing her from her life-long friend,

Lifting off the trellis on which she used to depend,

Straightening her up again,

Pruned, but by no means defeated,

She stood, as tall as she could,

With a promise that she will bloom again.