The small, naked rose stem,  I planted more than thirty years ago, took its time to sprout. Then, every spring it would bloom on and off, more off than on.

This spring it sprung a monster, and enchantress that bloomed and now grows, and grows.  A beauty of pink and purple petals, that every morning gives me a jolt of joy.  

Today it has produced children. Their petals are a deep red. They compete with the vine waving its way around the tall palm tree. Hundred of white flowers pop up from its stem. Their black pearly, juice fruits, blackberries, will grow during the summer. I salivate.

I will compete with the squirrels and the neighborhood kids for the blackberries. 

The rose my monster enchantress, stays

until its petals will fall one day.