A True Rose
And the rain suddenly befell
and suddenly ceased to rain.
Under the iris, someone drew
a flower I will call rose again
sprouting amid the cement,
smooth as a passing cloud,
I believe on her sweet scent,
she waves shyly and proud.
I catch her with my fingers
She has me with her thorns.
Love grows and pain lingers,
Undaunted by future storms.
,
A rose, true rose never fades,
Dyed with Aurora’s shades.
Copyright © João Camilo | Year Posted 2014
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