Poem -

Withered Away

Fresh is the scent of the red rose
so perfect and delicate though it has thorns to protect
If  there were a betrayal of two lovers adorn
by the prick of the finger shall the blood run down the veins 
If trust is broken and adultery displayed
The bloom of the pedals shall wither away
Why must we lust in the heat of passion
Only to find this a mere attraction

 

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Comments

author
Jim "The Lad" ....

maturity takes years for the males," patience is a virtue".........nice write!......................................................Jim

Reply
author
Nancy Mcgowin

Indeed Jim
Thanks for your read and comment
Blessings to you and yours
Nancy

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