A tiny Forget me not peeps
through the frosted snow
He has nothing else to do and
nowhere else to go.
Alone; suspended tenuous and
vulnerable in a flimsy crevice
He is a daub of beauty
on a glistening white canvas
Not as spectacular as the host
on the hill. But in his simplicity
equally as splendid as the
Golden daffodil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful small poem with nice image, my 10 with it.