Poem -
and Gosh,
He never lost the
Roses in
His cheeks his hair
The swirling air about
Himself as if life knew
That bloom he must in
Years so few and
Gosh, rose perfumeÂ
Lingers still by
Greying stone
On primrosed' hill the
Scentless flowers
Small and meek with
No rose in the ground
Around
Cept him
and Gosh,
M ~
Â
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Comments
Life took him, the rose perfume refused to go. Â Â
I have come back to read this more than a few times, before leaving my words, it's truly outstanding poetry and my whole heart just shouts elegance. This is so profoundly elegant. 🌹