Dead flowers
Call me,
Beckoned,
Their scent
So sweet,
Lure me,
As I walk,
In the air cold,
As cold as death,
Red flowers,
Red as my
Bleeding feet,
Feet in the air
The grave I lie
Grey with ashes,
Wet with tears,
The flowers
Die in my lap
Lap of Love
You sing with a poet's voice, Reshma. Your words entice, seduce, cajole. Your images are unique and true as steel. And you never say too much. Your lap of love finds the grace in melancholy. Great poem. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Love flowers dying...overlapping words; emotions... poem picturesquely gloomy...10
Dead red flowers beckons my bleeding feet Perhaps wants to test my determination and grit................ Good work............well penned...............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow a poignant write......the last two lines simply touched my heart........flowers die on ur lap.....creative and powerful lines.....10+ for sure...sebastine