Somewhere Still The Rose Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

No shadow ever darkened the path of true love;
for, its light refused to let the darkness in.

With a spring in my step and a step to the sky,
I skip with joy and whistle in a whirl.
I spark a sunrise sonnet to sweet sanctify
and luminesce in a glittering swirl.

The morn breathes of jasmine and honeysuckle vines.
A slice of summer slips into the sea.
Above the hills and hillocks, a bluebird aligns,
slanting downwards in silent reverie.

I press my cheek against the fingertips of dawn.
The scent of water whispers on the wind,
and red sparks of sunfire scatter across the lawn
in beauty that I cannot comprehend.

What a world for lovers and what a world for smiles!
What diapason of symphonic swells!
The sunlight soiree carries on for miles
in a garden of burgeoning bluebells.

The bed of sky is pillowed with clouds in a fluff
that hover in the bright pulse of the light,
and angel breezes blow white wisps of dandepuff
that flutter far and get away from sight.

My heart is blithe as a nightingale’s opus,
whose song is sweet and sweeter than it knows
and sweeter still when it dares to delight us.
Somewhere still in time, somewhere still the rose.