Yellow Rose of Kingwood — Image by kenne
One morning after a rain
I walked through the garden
where we was visiting.
There were many blossoms
crying joyful tears of spring
especially the yellow rose.
The morning sun was gray
as passing shadows meandered
rain water running on its bellies.
Air thick enough to cut
stopping any breeze
from blowing off the coast.
Yellow so appealing
its erotic pedals
bad to the bone.
Aroused and trembling with camera
I capture yet another
flower for a poem.
— kenne
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