It is raining lightly in the forest,
Little flowers begin to droop
In the fragile atmosphere
Of God’s sympathetic tears.
You pick the smallest ones
And hold them to your breast,
Then with your face angelic and wet,
Bring them into your room.
These grateful flowers
Smile for you;
Mystically, they carry my heart
And will not let you forget me.
Love is the tender sadness we both feel
When we are unable to kiss
But can only protect something gentle.
Oh, this is so lovely.........yes, delicate is the right word for it. Great poem Uriah. I have often watched tiny flowers bend in the rain and wondered how they survive...yet they almost always do. Sincerely, Mary
Such heart and very heart-warming as well. There's a hint of sadness, as well, for the uncertainty and fragility of love.
Hey Uriah, your words are so soothing this morning. Thank you so much for sharing these with us..
sweet, tender and endearing.. I'm a fan of your poetry already! HBH
There's a fairytale element here Uriah, like someone lost.........! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Very sweet poem Sincerely Ernestine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is a delicate mix of tenderness, love and poignant sadness in this poem. Seems very fresh to me.