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when roses bud(and lovers bloom PDF Print E-mail
Written by Tabata Young   


when roses bud (and they do
flourish rare beauty, bloom
redness paints crazy thimbles

when the scent brushes lips soft
fingers caress sharp needled giggles
(like pink cheeks arched warmth

trusting flesh springs earthly
(morphic petals extend delicacy
without observation or reason

and so shall love be, between
the soil beneath and the sun in
our sky (ever-blossoming ardor

shimmering across the pond(blue
lavish passion, showering dreams
- like roses bud unconditionally
so shall my love flourish endlessly

 

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If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.

Hermann Hesse