So many youthful days
spent unaware
that the hours,
like flowers,
are special gifts.
Precious bouquets,
fresh as morning dew,
delivered to my door
in every color and hue
and sweet fragrance.
Each day of life,
picked just for me,
by God’s own hands;
such treasures
deserve
very special care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your words bloom with truth, very nice. Raymond