I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork.
Floral poem.
DescriptionJust a wee thought for now.
| |
How sweet that rose, in form how fair.
And how it's fragrance scents the air
with dew o'erspread as early morn
I grasp It , but I grasp a thorn.
How strange thought I so fair a flower,
fit ornament for lady's bower,
emblem of love in beauty's form,
should in It's breast conceal a thorm.
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susanna Dunne
Friday, 17th February 2012 | 01:46 am
Member | Points: 6481