Finding peace and pleasure, risking the pain.
Wanting and comfort, we do it again.
Love lives where the wild roses grow.
Tangled in the spiked brush, a crimson glow.
Delicate petals satin soft,
Bathed in a halo of light aloft.
Yes, love lives where the wild roses grow.
Without hesitation, we instinctively go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That`s a wonderful poem, I love wild roses, you have captured their beauty in this write.