The way she walks
The way she talks
Is just not heard of nowadays
She is beautiful the old fashioned way
She is a forgotten kind of beauty.
Elegant; so simply and truly.
She is adored by many
But truly appreciated by few if any
People only stare in awe frome a distance
for the fear of getting hurt.
Oh what a cowardly thing this is
to not give her the admiration she deserves.
So she is out there alone just twirling in the sun
Waiting for someone brave to come
To come take her off her feet and spin around with her in his arms
And know that she means him no harm
Waiting for someone to realize just exactly what she is worth
That she has a love as deep as roots within the earth
Waiting for someone to come and take her home.
This beautiful white rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem