Stripping away the rose colored glasses of denial concerning my reality. Getting in touch with truth. Reaching out to others in empathy concerning their reality and their walk to truth.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Her Rose

She walked her dream and looked around
With smallest flowers on the ground
The yellow bees were buzzing by
She spied a rose, and heard it sigh

The tiny drops of dew were clear
And playfully as she came near
The thorns did glistened but obeyed
The hand that once had held the spade

The hand that held a knife to prune
A blossom tender for her room
Did cut the rose, a fragrant scent
She’d not return ‘til this one spent


  1. Loved the images and personification in this poem. Beautifully lyrical and perfect meter for a most pleasing read! Brenda

  2. Brenda,
    I must admit that I've been taking secret lessons from you. Your work is so delightful. Thank you.
    In peace, Dixie

  3. Dixie, this was very beautiful! Roses are my favorite flower, and your words light my heart with joy.(smile)

    I loved the image of the rose, and the words of your poem were just perfect. Really wonderful work!

    Thank you for sharing,

  4. Mattie,
    As you may have guessed: when Brenda is busy writing, I'm at your site taking lessons!
    I did spend 10 cents at a yard sale for a "rhyming dictionary." It was so interesting I fell asleep reading it. (grin)
    Your comments are too kind; I am grateful you visit here.
    In peace, Dixie


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