How with thorns it clings to me, with beauty's talons of prickly security
Rambling rose, past sharp memory flows, ameliorated by floral beauty
Perfumed petals painted bright wilt so quickly over night
Attracted vagabond bee tasting your sweet honey, before taking flight
Now mere stalk and hip, seeds of fornication slip from your grip
So under autumn suns, as winter comes, a branch of memory I clip
Pressed between minds pages dried thoughts of past ages
Faint odors of time past, faded color held fast in paper cages
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: November 17th, 2025 02:55
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
Good write SB.
Thanks Orchi I do very much appreciate the read and kind words
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