The wild rose

Welcoming the waves, so silent,
Even the shores had shed a tear.
The moon, the stars, the horizon,
Even them, they felt it so dear.

Filling her bud, in all exotic glee,
Wild a rose, was lost somewhere.
Like a tinge of spark, the jay,
In them those shrubs, felt comforted there.

Well guarded the rose, in thorns,
Bleeding the jay, it did reach for her.
In least he cared the meaning for,
Wanted a drench of an innocent fare.

Spread the petals, of so soft nature,
Healed the jay, and all it's gear.
Soaring high, once it flew,
The wild rose, was ne'er there.