Saturday, October 14, 2006

The Rose

Sensual incantation of scent
Blood-red heavenly angel sent
Pricking the fox who dares
Approach thy thorny lair

Passionate tango of romance
Thy fragrance with senses dance
Inebriated as they float along
Sways each to thy crimson song

Petals of softness adorning thee
Robes of scarlet jealousy
Regally they shroud thy soul
Sweet perfume so gently unfolds

As thee, my life takes shape
These dusty words, my escape
Thorny eyes protect inside
Soft, red scent, in me I hide

As wild like scarlet fire
Thy radiance do I desire
Unbending under command
Of wind or rain or sun to stand

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Poetry

when language like bubbling streams flow




when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands




when you feel the essence of the poet from within




when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm



when images reel as you read




when pen and paper create a symphony




then, it is poetry
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