Perhaps a single red rose
cut and doomed to die
will revive in your vase
and brighten your day
If nurtured, it may bloom
and with soft petals
flourish in your embrace
and ignite desire
To feel the thorns that
prick your fingers
and lets the blood
run red and hot
Until with red desire
the bouquet overcomes
and we consummate
in purple luxury
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love this one, Mike..your words flow so gently..