beyond the reddest rose
lies passion
none deeper than
the burgundy of roses
fall colors grieve
for the spring
the burgundy rose waits
a tender touch
a gentle kiss
to stir her sleeping lips
I sought the rarest rose
of burgundy perfection
in seasons laced with grief
elusive as the goddess
I sought but love withheld
the ultimate in roses
Your poem is simply beautiful Barry. I think we all seek the rarest burgundy rose. They are so elusive and difficult to grow. I love the line a gentle kiss to stir her sleeping lips. I think this kind of love is of the most poetic and imaginative kind and will always be difficult to cultivate. Thanks for sharing. -Pamela (Jette)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A blend of lovely and sad. Love has not withheld as much as you might think. You have hundreds, possibly thousands of adoring fans and followers on this site who have grown to love you and your work, over the years. Wish that you could feel/sense the love across the miles- - But it is there, I assure you! :)