The Bramble Rose
In the depths of some divine despair,
the wind stirs softly.
With a prayer from her soul’s deep core –
a plea in awful repose…
A melancholy crack in the smile she wears,
with mildly stern eyes in command;
and silent lips of a paler-hue:
remain filled with lamentation.
The Bramble rose
wears a thin veil
to cover cool radiance in glorious eyes:
virtually perfect…
Copyright © Juanita Oosthuizen | Year Posted 2018
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