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Sunday, September 21, 2014

A Symbol of Love

I know that each time a rose blooms
It talks in silent hushed tones
Or whispers in its perfume that radiates its glow
In a sensuous garden true

I believe each steal of a gaze
embroiders  the root of a hidden lover's crush
in the garden of true where the rose buds do thrive

Do roses sublime in the fresh dew of morn
Recollect the touch of the rain's gentle fall
And sweet smelling blushes that form a new bud
Rekindle the memories of a lover in pursuit of a bride

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