The Scent of the Rose


Drifting on the wildborne

The scent of the rose, that calls me

I remember – it is a lovely day to be lonely

Going as I, going, must

Imagine flowers in your eyes

And crowns in your sleep

But for the scent of the rose, that calls me

I would be tumbling in sunshowers

Breathing wheat-warm breath

But drifting on the wildborne

I remember – it is a lovely day to be lonely

Elizabeth Cook, 2015

Image from Annie’s Garden

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7 comments

  1. Elizabeth,

    It has been farm far too long since you posted. I have missed you very much, although by the evidence of this poem you have not lost any of your ability! It has just got better!

    j

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