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Click hereHis ivory thorn, sharp, biting
A life-tinted rose
Harvested in the night garden
Ebb and flow, watered by tears
Nourished in sleep, in darkness
She rises with the moon
To find a rose-bed
To pass on his roses
To harvest her own
the writing is only eclipsed by her own beauty thank you for writing such a lovly poem....
dear eclipsed one... a shiver pulled and clawed its way up my spine and held fast! BEAUTIFUL! just BEAUTIFUL! kata sis
was going to be horribly clich?. Thank you for surprising me!