JOHN HORVATH Jr.
Rose-Gardening

A lover of fresh blooms,
I crave to drink its fresh tea;
lick at edges of pink petals;
sleep, smothered in its scent,
and dream caressing its hips.

I remember each first bud
and sad last leaves.
Be cautious with her thorns
as you gather her rosebuds.


Copyright JOHN HORVATH Jr.
(all rights reserved; To copy this poem, please contact the poet)
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