Never Was a Rose Garden
Buying promises, leaving a glance unsure
that clouds are blue, through thickness
of forests green with mist, and fields filling
each thought with a smile, a soft kiss from my
angel, flying through the purple covered violets
so beautiful, touching across my mind, in perfect
rhythm.
Lingering along with glasses so rosy
they brought many days of pleasure
dreams of stardom, I hang on, with thrills
a simple goal of my reality.
Buying promises, watching roses die
I see clouds over the swaying trees
days filled with angels, of mother earth
and her sweet creations.
A moment, a calm breeze flies by, reminding
me when oceans were bluish green and his
eyes staring past mine, in glowing wonder
now they pass so softly across the mind
touching heart, with peace laying in comfort
hearing each beat of my heart, in a rose
garden that really never was.
Caressing tightly life's treasure, growing
sensation building seductive thoughts, playing
tunes echoing across valley, touching down
one more time, before darkness appears with
promise, untouched or bought, a garden of
love, promises, to be found in time of adventure
wisdom, and growth, our garden grows deeply
found only in ourselves.
((Our Rose Garden Sleeps Softly In Our Own Minds))
By Derena
© 2018 Derena (All rights reserved)
Copyright © Harriet Shea | Year Posted 2018
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