Transcription
The Rose
My heart was racing,
like a horse on a racetrack.
My hands were sweating,
as a sea-lion on the cold sea.
I feared an approaching menace.
My tongue tied up, and lips shut-up.
In my hand, a "Rose" I held;
bright and red.
Softer than the silk of a spider.
Alive as the morning sun!
Its fragrance engaged,
it spoke her unique language.
Softly, she grabbed the rose in my hand.
Her face was lit up like a crystal,
as she caressed the rose's petals.
And I caressed the back of her hand!
Our eyes ran to the chasm between us.
Then our lips corssed our "Jordan".
Indeed, the "Rose" broke,
the silence in our souls;
when our thoughts, froze.
Because of the poverty of words,
in our souls.
For our hearts, both paused.
It was not a violet, or daffodil.
Though, each does, what it does each.
The Rose is in a league by itself!
I cannot know the rose; its mystery,
yet it spoke my heart's desires,
better than I could have conceived.
[Hand drawn picture of a rose displayed at the end of the poem]
Childeric Maxy, 10/24/13, Stanley WI, 54768-6500
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Replies (3)
very sweet
i love it
and pretty rose
I hope your daughter gets to read the poems you wrote her, they were really sweet. Keep doing what you do, and I wish you all the best.