The Laurel Tree
The tender leaves of Laurel trees, reveals a name so rare,
a crown made of chartreuse shades is believed to show you care.
In the fourteenth century poet Petrarch adored his beloved’s mystery,
she was a queen with unknown identity and shared the same name as me.
My name is mine and only me can express the truth of grace,
at the time of my birth my mom could attest God made my tender face.
My name may not be well-known these days but I still love its beauty,
I show no fame nor hold a throne, but it’ll always be special to me.
I’ve read and learned what my name means and it seems I can be brilliant,
it’s been said that those who share the same can be quite resilient.
My mother named me knowing I’d be gifted in ways others may not be,
but no other woman with my name could be full of more possibilities.
Couplet with internal rhyme
January 8, 2017
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment