Rose
A bright red rose, sitting on my green grassy field
Swishing and swirling, tumbling twirling,
But so its image is precise like day like night
As so the wind smashes against my rose as
Though washing it away like a clean sheet of paper and as
Stars light up above so its streaking its light toward my beckoning rose
And so my bright red rose safe from the wind.
Copyright © Julia Salak | Year Posted 2009
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