The Rose of Poetry
I see your work budding,
like a flower each new day.
Slowly blooming more and more,
bringing color to a time that’s gray.
Your colorful petals are amazing,
the way you reflect the sun.
And your beauty still remains,
after the beauty of the day is done.
For your work radiates,
here on Poetry Soup.
We are all poetic flowers;
part of a big garden group.
I am writing this poem,
to the poetic flower you are.
You glisten each new day,
from way, way, afar.
If life was a big garden,
a flower you would be.
With flourished poetic petals,
named the Rose of Poetry.
______________________
For Belinda Parish
a fellow souper for her
supportive comments.
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