Whithered Rose [just writing]

Withered rose
old love letters,
held among dust and ribbons.

Winds blow through pane-less
windows, cold stills the day.
Years were held,
empty hands,
hearts forever wait.


She dreamed alone....
dreams had not changed the day.
Prayed alone...
and know its hard to be alone.

Feel a winter heart,
gathering of leaves rush
from abandon corners
disturb nothing, what years have claimed.

Silent I return the rose,
gently close the door,
and believe she dances still
this once lit cabin .......Vincent

Last edited by lane1777; 04/19/19 11:05 PM.


"Blessed are the words of truth and fiction,
one might save you from the other...Vincent