Rosa Rugosa by Warren P. Padla

I departed gently, like a soft breeze that enters a window and cools off a room with a very soft entry; I entered a path of ancient rough stone, all covered with bush and trees overgrown. My goal was to find the source of a scent that filled our small home , with aromas of roses and flowery cologne. I followed the scent down the old rugged road, all empty and absent of a single abode. As I made my slow steps through the bushes and trees, the scent grew much stronger, real hard to believe. After more than one hour no scent could be stronger, and I knew then my search would not last much longer. My thoughts proved me right and as I moved much closer, there stood the source of the scent, a huge pink Rugosa. I sat down on the ground next the heavenly rosa, and felt then that heaven could never me closer. I sat there transfixed, giving thanks up above, for more than one hour, then headed back home and out of the bower.



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