You said your name was Angela,
a kind offering from above.
You were sent to spread warmth and softness,
delivered with a message of love.
You told me you were fond of flowers,
and anything ‘neath the firmament that grows.
But we both realize now that it was a mistake,
When I snipped from the bush to bring you a rose.
I erred in judgement grievously,
I offered and you took on your own terms.
Sincerely I feel us both to be blamed
when you grasped that thorny rose much too firm.
How can I bring you something beautiful,
something that grows in open space,
when I know you’ll just want to clutch it tight,
and then display it in a vase?
You should not feel so angry Angela.
To you I meant the least of harm.
And that such animosity lingers still,
I find due reason for alarm.
To you again I apologize,
tho you’ve yet found words to forgive.
You shouldn’t retain this bitterness,
it’s so unreasonably destructive.
You said your name was Angela,
and I did not disbelieve.
Now please don’t give me cause to suspect
that I might have been deceived.