Zaina R · Aug 8, 2012
HOPE

A beautiful rose spurned up on a mid summers day,
Naive and innocent was its essence,
The gentle breeze came by surrounding it with its charm and a tranqulity
The breeze recognized the roses innocence and gave it the breath of life
The rose flourished through out the months
Eagerly waiting the breeze.
The breeze seemed to vanish in the months of winter
And the rose seemed to die.
It needed the breath of life again, so it kept strong.
Once again the beautiful rose sprung up on a mid summers day waiting for the breeze.

 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment