Morning Rose
I dream so often, of the garden stretching out
wearing an early morning sun just like a crown.
There is the rousing sound of rooster's shout,
and mother standing barefoot, dressed in her gown
pulling a tall weed, while puttering about
looking like a pink cheeked girl, with eyes of brown,
clutching a bouquet to her breast. She would hold
roses, as if they were treasures made of gold
~
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011
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