Sonnet

The summer winds do whistle through the wood
A pretty day with sun and birds, air's light
I walk and stroll enjoy soft breeze, so good
A lone rose growing tall a pretty sight

I go to pick it up and sniff its scent
A strong and sweet perfume that leaks I sniff
To smell this scent all day and night, it's meant
To keep this scent, to savor a sweet whiff

But then a finger scrapes a point, not fun
The beauty has hurt me so shame this thorn
A bee then sprouts from petals smooth it comes
The sting begins I scream, this pain I scorn

My finger hurt I trudge await, I'm maimed
A lone rose left upon the ground remained