Rosella Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

She likes to tell of butterflies
And sunshine in the spring.
With art of little boys and girls
And the blessings that they bring.

Her moniker is Starlight1
But her friends just call her Rose.
Artistic is what comes to mind
If you'd ask me what she does.

If you happen to be a lady
She will always call you Sis!
She simply calls me her dear friend,
For I look terrible in a dress!

At times she writes of flowers,
And Robin's up in the trees.
And inside of all her writes
You can feel the soft cool breeze.