Keats’s Rose

Picked among a garden, this one unique rose,
taken from green thorns, this flower she chose.
Sat upon his desk, and nurtured from stems,
drenched in water, a vase, looking back at him.
The secret of this rose was not from the attending.
The secret of its beauty was from its sending.
Beauty in its temporal form and in nature’s bloom,
eternal rose, deep within, nurtured to the tomb.

Revised 2019 CMM

She and the Sea

Her soul needed refreshing 

she returned to the sea

when the waves came, her troubles leave

her hair played with the wind

her smile swept across her face

she felt the universe give back her grace

early morning from darkness to light

rise into colors of orange, pink, reds 

she nodded and watched, no words said

Her soul needed refreshing 

she returns always to the sea

where the waves come, her troubles leave 

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM