I Plucked a Dozen Roses Alone At Nightfall
I took an old poem that reminds me of you
I wrote it a dozen times hoping it would come true
You were my Summer and I was your Spring
Where rivers ran endless and sunlight reigned
I took an old poem of flowering light
And walked through the forest with you by my side
With Summer's sweet crimson and Springtime's sweet call
I plucked a dozen roses alone at nightfall
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2016
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