Dateless

Dates mean nothing. The poems are just ordered as I please. I believe I still have a mostly accurate account of dates elsewhere.

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

" The smell of the rose"

 The smell of the rose*

Intuitions of feeling more deep than the sea

It all is encased in the magic of She

Transcending the time that She spends in this place

Outpouring of blood filled with passion and grace

The smell of the rose and all flowers in bloom

As life becomes measured, all doubts are entombed

Intuition, the feeling transcendent, She bears

She learns of the magic that guides as it cares

A useless endeavor 'tis not, for She knows

The sense of the wonder, the smell of the rose

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