The Vase - Poem by Robert Leary
An empty vase upon the table
decorously awaiting your return.
What flowers do you ceremoniously
bring, ambrosial dreams to bloom,
cut and water?
We'll make love and wake delighted
To see their fresh pink faces
in the days that do ensue
our hearts will grin, but soon
beauty will transcend
you'll lay them lifeless in the sun
pressed between pages
of our life, perhaps a potpourri
or unable to helm the thorns
an urn could be their destiny.
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