by | Aug 8, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

Large pink and apricot flowers.
Glorious rosettes of colour
With a nose of ripe peaches and apricots.
The rose possesses magic power
Casts its spell upon the hour…
In the warm Mediterranean you belong
Where clouds of myth and legend form.
Whose presence soothes the heart and mind
Inspires the would-be poet’s rhyme?
Clasped with both hands, as if, at silent prayer
That the dead might never walk again
To haunt the lives of guilty men…
Though hopes and dreams may be fulfilled
There is no peace in this sad world.
In that, eternal realm of sleep
Your petals for the living weep.


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