Fleeting Rose
The wind whispers secrets of time.
Time that passes as swiftly as the whispering wind.
Who gazes at the desert rose?
..with its fleeting beauty and it's unique pose
...the day it was born, the day it goes?
He who lines the stars in place,
He knows each name, He knows each face.
And the wind whispers once and its gone forever.
Forever, the desert rose sleeps.
Alas, as it's starry audience weeps.
Copyright © Crista Gorman | Year Posted 2011
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