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Friday, February 18, 2005

Rhapsody for a Rose.

I don't want to hold you and feel so helpless
I don't want to smell you and lose my senses
And smile in slow motion
With eyes in love

The pitiful rose could barely lift her head; perhaps the most beautiful of roses are kept in pretty porcelain pots away from cupid’s avalanches. “Oh, my defective thorns!” she exclaimed simply.

Red was hardly the colour of the season; or perhaps it just never suited her well.

posted by voyeur @ 2/18/2005 02:29:00 AM