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The Rose Ghost

Shadows dance behind her silver eyes
The ghost of her beauty struggling to show
A crimson rose amid the rage of thorns
Seemingly pure like the white of snow

Such a stupor of silence hangs above her
But it loses the battle in her mind
The silver key trembling in her ghostly finger
Attempting to lock up the heart inside

Never meant to be open, delicately curled
Her petals shouldn't seem foreign anymore
So she dances, silencing the screaming thorns
Leaving the key, now crimson, on the floor

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 6/28/2017 2:14:00 PM
Whoa, Juli-Michelle, this floored me...your ending ...and the lead up. Love the rose metaphor.
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Date: 5/24/2017 2:41:00 PM
You dance girl, and never stop. Loved this piece.
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Date: 4/26/2017 9:58:00 AM
An intriguing write!
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Date: 3/27/2017 5:46:00 PM
Juli, I am in awe of the crimson key and the silver key. No one writes like you girl! Your pen unlocks poetic beauty! 7 My best, chuck
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Date: 1/9/2017 7:24:00 PM
Great depth and beauty in this superb poem.A7 Soupmail on the way..
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Date: 10/21/2016 10:27:00 AM
wow ... very nice I love the imagery , Juli... Thank you for reading my poem. Hugs Eve
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