Wild Roses

Winter holds fast

In hopeful blooms

Standing against rippling heat

Until a respite comes

With a promise of rain

Rolling back the clock

Into mild days

Before petals dry

And brown before

The unrelenting sun

Still they bow

Their cheerful heads

And smile


So time moves

For us all

The days grow long

As time runs short

And color fades

With the memory

Of sweet perfumes

And softness – Caroline A. Slee

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