A Still Life (In Words) - Poem by Thomas Hooker
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.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You