Anthony Bianco Poet Rhyme

Rain Painted Rose

Don't we all live deep within the walls of a 
rain-painted rose.
Moments that once were fresh are set ablaze.
Whose bones are jewel-encrusted with decay.
Within our deepest reds. 
The scent of saints and dreams is bled.
Glancing off a soul of glass.
So very briefly glowing off the gentle face.

As every breath tends to climb toward light
reaching the softest edge, giving away.
Tumbling down a stairwell of thorns.
The clowns of living cycling round and round a face forlorn.

Dreams are placed where jugglers juggle dented circus pins.
Between the hell of the hopeless.
The kiln of God and the devil's twisted rope-

Don't we all live within the walls of a 
rain-painted rose.

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Carrie Richards December 6, 2012 at 7:06 PM I have neglected commenting on so many poems and have missed reading wonderful work, ...this poem makes me wake up and smell the roses...and climb up the stairwell of thorny gems. I must read more.:)

Mike Dailey December 4, 2012 at 7:37 PM Loved the title and a lot of the lines but I don't consider this a rhyme styled poem as it is coded. Still I enjoyed the poem.

Poet Destroyer A December 4, 2012 at 5:22 PM :-) pd

Andrea Dietrich December 4, 2012 at 3:32 PM gosh, this is REALLY good free verse. Such imagery!! I don't see many like this one!