"Do flowers cry?," he asked the Rose,
Her cheeks all streaked with dew--
Or was it rain? "He knows," thought she.
How strange that he should ask,
In such a casual way!
It must be clear to him as day.
She bowed her head to hide her tears,
Which fell like Summer stars,
Each one like fire in her heart:
Those burning tears! And, since
He'd caused each one to flow,
She would not let them go.
--Kindred Spirit
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
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This poem is incredibly beautiful (as is the picture above it). There is so much here that touches my heart.
ReplyDeleteThank you, dear Hannah, for your kind comments. May God bless you.
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