Crimson roses
mixed with greens
standing perfectly still, neatly poised,
confident and composed,
tranquil in their yellow vase
resting on an antique end table
covered with an embroidered ivory cloth.
The sun light streaming
through my window pane,
the shadow colored accents,
matching the brush strokes
I can almost feel the soft silky
waxy petals hiding thorns
anchored on quiet stems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem