The Rose..................
What a site to see we say, but do we really know
what a Rose like she goes through , to spring that certain glow.
In the winter she hides way, so patiently she sleeps,
a wishing well of strength and love, but quietly she weeps.
Awaiting old man winter to melt, so she may gallantly reappear,
this lovely princess, her blossoms begin to stare,
at my heart that shines so bright,, oh ,, the glory that she brings,
stopping nature in it's tracks as the Bluebird spryly sings.
This song to me ,about your gaze, that sets my heart on fire,
to hold this Angel just one night,, would be my great desire.
I send this poem to my Rose,, oh how she is delight,
I want to hold you silk to skin,, and rock her through the night...
Yes my,the Rose,,,,,,,,,,,,,. xxxoxoxoxox :)
2007-10-10
01:57:21
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4 answers
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asked by
tommy C
1
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry