Whither It Goes
Our rosy love grew fast to bloom,
Burnt in the heatwave of desire -
Young and impervious to doom -
Out-lusted, nothing to admire.
We spurned our tender love, my rose;
Its lustre faded, petals dried,
Fast beating hearts, now hollow, froze -
Nothing but thorns lodged deep inside.
Short-sighted sweet impromptu love!
Strong lasting roots grow underground -
Well nurtured is the rose we have -
And now it blossoms lifetime-round!
March 20, 2023
Copyright © Margarita Lillico | Year Posted 2023
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