Monday, June 20, 2011

Rose

When morning dew on rose I find
A happy sigh escapes me
I hope the drops won’t blemish it
A perfect bloom I’d give thee

Pink, the hue of blossom opened
And sweet perfume it shares
As I reach out my hand to you
Forget your troubles and cares


Ken Goree


2 comments:

  1. When you reach out to me, my soul feels complete. I am strong, I am happy, and I am me. Thank you for taking my burdens, smiling, and showing me that man is not just in this for himself. Your heart is bigger than the moon.

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  2. And another poem from an anonymous "mystery poet."

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