-IT SOFTLY LINGERS ON-
I hold the delicate blossom
Within my open hand,
The softness like a whisper
Against my tender skin.
I can close my hand and hide it,
Where it's beauty lies,
Or leave it out to light the world,
Until it wilts and dies.
But, even then, it's wonderous scent
Will softly linger on,
And so is life-it's memory here-
Even when it's gone.
author Carolyn Ford Witt
Ms. Caroline
©7-03-1976
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem