Prize Roses
In bed looking out my window... (sighs)
up at the moon with leaden eyes
approaching bleak scarlet skies
dawns spell prompt to arise.
Fawn forages prize
roses, surprise
at moms cries,
it shies,
flies.
11/2/2019
Poetry Contest: Rhyming Nonet
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2019
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