A Budding Rose

0

A Budding Rose, A Budding Rose

A Budding Rose 

If only I could back time,
When I was young, sexy and selfish,
Living like Spring, rising at dawn,
Entirely into myself, like a budding rose.

Now, I looked a little broken, like a winter twig,
my shoulders and hands unpredictable, ready
to take flight, my head bowed in reverence
by heavy teardrops, with my soul crying out
for permanence when there is none.

“We are by nature observers, and thereby learners.
That is our permanent state.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

                                                                                                                              Unique Pageviews for this article: 76  

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept

Do NOT follow this link or you will be banned from the site!