The Symphony Dance of the White Rose Month
White rose petals
One falls,
Then two.
They circle as the sun and moon
In an endless dance.
Twirling and reaching
Only to be pulled away
at the last moment.
As slow as a falling leaf
and as quick as a song they circle.
Only shadows touch
and then they are cruelly
torn apart.
Their longing is as deep as the ocean,
and patience is running out.
The eyes of the pair are frantic,
The tips of their hands the touch,
Eyes light and hope is renewed.
That smile appeared on her face
still sad but happy in a way.
Three petals fall.
At the beacon of the composer
The musicians strike a new angry tune,
Intent on pulling the lovers apart.
Hands clasp unwilling to let go
but the pair are slowly torn.
The violins break, then the clarinet rusts.
The flute players smile,
their music soft then a crescendo of sound.
Clash the cymbals! The trumpets roar!
Four rose petals fall.
The chains loosen
the lovers are happy with excitement.
Then five petals fall.
The dancers leap closing in, around the lovers.
The chains rust and with
an echoing smash the fall to the ground!
Then the drum rips, and the harpsichord screeches
along with the dying piano.
The composer and musicians refuse to let up!
Some of the dancers fall away and the couple smiles defiant.
Six than seven petals fall and die.
Another crescendo,
the girl laughs, a pealing of bells
in this chaotic musical world!
The cello` s die with a sickening sound
and the wood rots away.
O, how angry the dancers are with the composer
and musicians!
The flutes blast again along with the fife.
Then the music roars like a lion!
Eight petals fall with the rose.
The trees of green and brown sway with
the wind.
Then the sun as bright as gold smiles.
The white roses that circlet he stone dais sway,
in the laughing wind and music.
Nine petals fall from this dancing white rose,
onto the green grass and the age old stone
with its bold beautiful colors not at all worn.
Ten petals fall.
The xylophones explodes outward,
their keys clanking to the floor!
The lovers are only focused on each other,
as happy as can be.
The pair` s clothes of Victorian and jewel are glinting,
in the light.
The other performers are jealous, of the lovers.
How silly they are!
Twilight appears and with it the moon.
On his clear starlit night,
the dance still continues .
Eleven petals descend.
The pair leaps and bounds,
out of place with the others,
happy and free .
Finally seven of the burnt out performers leave.
The man laughs this time.
His heart belongs only to one!
Then surprise, more musicians!
The lovers sigh but are unresigned.
Still glittering once again they are separated,
like to prisoners.
But this time the separation is different!
Neither of the lovers are sad!
They are both undeniably happy!
The lovers are happy because they know they
will dance again.
Twelve than thirteen petals give way.
The tempo is 1,2,3,4 than 1,2,3,4, in this
seemingly endless dance.
The woman is smiling and the man is smirking.
She looks over a silver haired shoulder
and dares the composer, with defiant alacian eyes.
Fourteen petals fall.
The composer is furious!
He waves his stick in the air, like a hawk chasing
after its prey.
But who in this game is predator and quarry?
Fifteen petals fall and in their place fifteen
new roses sprout.
When the pair rejoins as partners in the dance
the music tries to pull them, but they are strong together.
The blond haired man stands firm and steady, through
this waltz.
Sixteen and seventeen petals sway and fall.
With a horribly indescribable sound, a whole section
of instruments collapse!
Eighteen, nineteen, and twenty.
The bassoons falter as well
and they make a horrific sound!
As before, the flutes break away
and strike up an entirely different tune!
The composer is losing control, of
everything!
As before and again more petals are lost,
twenty-one petals.
It is night than day and day than night.
Still faithful the lovers weave; sun and moon in hand.
Twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four petals
have left and are in the wind .
There are no weeds in this farie land.
In the beginning there were only white roses,
but now there are so many flowers!
There are tons of flowers, many of the likes
that humans have never seen!
There are Narcissus, Tulips, Daffodils,
Orchids, Chrysanthemum, and so much
more!
Along with the flowers instead of just oak there is
ebony, cherry blossoms, and much more!
The violas smash with a thud!
Twenty-five, twenty-six, and twenty-seven trees
and flowers sprout.
Excitement fills the air!
The last of the instruments die with a bang!
In a dress of rainbow the woman is caught by her lover,
in a suit of colors.
It is that day, that time they know!
The trees grow and the flowers are waiting.
The world seems to hold its breath and
the sun and moon eclipse!
The flowers shoot into bloom and t then he
composer smashes his stick!
The loyal flute players have never given up!
Thirty petals have fallen from the white
rose in this symphony dance in this
long month.
The dance ends, at last they could meet
and be together; the sun and moon.
White rose petals fall, their love is eternal and
nothing can pull them apart.
Neither of the two had ever given up on one another,
they had never lost hope.
There is a lesson here daring to dream is daring to
live and hopeā¦
