There she stands, red as blood, dancing in solitude
Yet glistening her natural beauty to the roaring wind
Everyone who's ever been to Ramjar
Digs under cover from the passing Mr. wind
But say whatever for she stands tall
Defying the odds of he who tries to shy her off
Its no use Mr. wind
As she's pure as she portrays
One can feel her presence from yard's distance
For she isn't withering anytime soon
Oh! mother of love, isn't she beautiful?
My mind yearns to ask; aren't you ever lonely?
For you're all one in over field's distance
But I know too well without her answering
That it's in the solitude with which she mesmerizes onlookers
Nobody dares to touch her even with love
And who could? for she's just one
Even seasons seem's to be in no hurry, why?
Oh, I forgot..... She's rose, isn't she?
Very nice poem you have written sir.
ReplyDeleteLoved it a lot. Enjoyed reading!!!
Thank you. Glad that u r doin gud.
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