The Rose Bower
Apr 13, 2020
We have a rose bower
where the flowers always bloom,
The sweet scent calls me home.
There, we bask in majesty,
His head is crowned in light.
The silence of friends between us,
or a gentle whisper under birdsong.
We sit and enjoy the company,
He laughs as soft as new snow,
as we reminisce over missed
callings.
Once love drunk, now I quietly sit
under rose perfume, looking fondly
into the endless depths of sweet,
sunlit eyes.
We have a rose bower
where the flowers always bloom.
The sweet scent calls me home.
