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When you ask about my hours, my days,
I shall say they were filled with roses,
that I was adrift in heady musk,
marshmallow petals melting sweet,
pearl white and shell pink light
clinging to my fingertips,
but of thorns that pierce, I shall not tell,
I do not think you want to know.
Alice Christie
1 vii 2013
I shall say they were filled with roses,
that I was adrift in heady musk,
marshmallow petals melting sweet,
pearl white and shell pink light
clinging to my fingertips,
but of thorns that pierce, I shall not tell,
I do not think you want to know.
Alice Christie
1 vii 2013
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Beautiful,and so sad x
ReplyDeleteThank you! Is it sad? I'm not so sure.
DeleteBeautiful rose pics. But I do like hearing about thorns. To paraphrase Tolstoy, happy flowers are all alike...
ReplyDeleteStop reading Tolstoy and get back to your packing!
Delete"pearl white and shell pink light clinging to my fingertips"
ReplyDeleteSimply perfect.
Thank you!
DeleteI always think of MrsM as my English rose
ReplyDeletethorns and all...
DeleteMrM, you are a gem.
ReplyDeleteMrsM, that is so beautiful. And...it's okay. Really. You can tell, or not. We all understand and would want to know what your heart needs to share, and understand the need not to, also.
Thank you! And please don't encourage MrM - he is trying to build up enough credits for a coffee cake.
DeletePoignant...and what a romantic man you have :)
ReplyDelete(See above)
Deletebeautiful writing again
ReplyDelete