Dew from the morning rain
slides down like tears
along the petals of my cheeks
Your finger tip
takes a gentle dip
listening to how sadness speaks
along the banks of my tears,
catching a glimpse of the lonliness
that grips all of my fears
Nourished by the dew
of the mornings rains,
the rose of me
glimmers once again
waiting for the warmth
of your poetic touch