Rose Of A Morning
Of a morní you arrive without a care
Softly scenting the breath in the air.
Petals of sweetness fresh and so pure
Heat of high noon you would endure.
Leaves glisten in the falling of the rain
An afternoon shower revives you again.
Dusk closes in and you look so forlorn
Just as the one who is pricked by your thorn.
In the gentle darkness of an early morning dew
Alongside you the buds are blossoming too.
As the passing scent of you is released
A new bouquet rises with the sun in the east.
© 2001 Ruth Norman
"Floras Secret" Midi By Enya Found Here