Like Violent Roses

It's when I see you there
Smiling in some quiet triumph.
For a brief moment
All the stars can never compare
To the light in your eyes.

A smile so brilliant to see
But regrettably rare
Like wine of a cherished vintage.
The colors of your soul
Deep with emotion
And rich in radiance
Are a color unto their own.

In grace you dip your brush
Setting down at a craft
Other cant quite love like you.
For in colors of your heart
You painted the world in hues.

Spring was never so vibrant
So alive with innocence
As to match the flower
Adorning your long brown hair.

A rose of thorny red
Jealous as is its nature,
Bittersweet in your presence.
Wishing to be of a sunnier shade
And worthy of your preference.

Here you find a similar battle.
As a violent rose of deeper reds
There is something of pain
Whispering in the corners
Of your bleeding heart.

Always desiring to walk in sunshine
You are bound by a terrible beauty.
Like a December sunset
Dying in fiery streaks.
There is a permanence in your face,
Trapped in time and bound by fate.

Yet sitting there with brush in hand,
I gain a fuller understanding
Of the color in a perfect blossom.
It's not the golden rose in your hair
Or the grace of each stroke
Or the hidden smile of a lyrical poet.

In your deep brown eyes
Meaning and purpose are perfect.
Nothing else must be done
But to simply bask
In each little ray of light
Streaming from your soul.

Now facing the burnt gold
Of your spirit's snowy decent
I realize a treasure
That can never be made mine.
With greatest regret
The edges of my own soul
Begin to match that which I prize.

Maybe as complimenting colors
The sun can rise in one
And die in the other
Like violent roses of red and gold.