Stubborn Rose Bush

In my garden in a corner
Aloof in a tub
Like a grief stricken mourner
Stands a rose shrub

Gaunt and austere as a saint
Over other plants it seems to tower
The reason for it to be quaint
Is that its never borne a flower

But you always endeavour
To fill my soul with peace
It’s something that I have never
Found in flowering trees

You showed me, you taught
To seek the inner glow
Saved me from being fraught
With glossy, outward show

And still, in the corner
Aloof in a tub
Like a grief stricken mourner
Stands my rose shrub