Sent and Sended
her face is
the twelfth
of a dozen
roses all in
a bouquet
but there's
something
different
about
her
flower for with
fingers and
thumbs i
open her
petals and
smell her
loving
scent
that
so
sends me to
breathe the
earth as her
slight patch
of moss
holds
barely
a few
drops
of
morning's
dew
Copyright © Jeff Connelly | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment