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Click hereAmid the rose's lips are locked; but in divine
High piping music, with ruby vintage drink.
Essence! The Nightingale cries to the rose,
That blushing cheek of hers to light, kindle to love.
And watch a thousand blossoms throughout the day,
Awake a thousand petals scattered into clay!
And this first Spring month that brings the robin,
Shall take it's verse beneath the bough.
A piece of sweet scented manuscript to show,
A song of lyrics to share, and thou beside me
Singing in the unfolding, wildness of paradise.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Copyright@2010LauraLynnPetersen