There was one, then
Two, three, four flowers
Later, the fifth was picked,
As well as the sixth,
Me thought, 'it's not enough! '
This one is a last pick, yes!
Most fragile and tender
No hands and hearts had cherished
Let me take care of it as well
With the rest of those nourished
Wow! Seven lovely flowers to smell!
flowers are always exciting and one is never enough, well said
A little can be alot but sometimes more is better.I like your style easy to read and very light with really deep meanings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The fifth flower is picked up. The wonder is there in seven lovely of flowers which you have to smell. This is an excellent poem beautifully penned.10