Love became the rose
one snow laden winter's day.
Why he had to go none could say.
But every year on the anniversary day
She leaves one single fresh red rose for him.
Then silently, tears in her eyes -- she walks away.
COLD PRESS
- Gwen Beauregard
- Montreal, Quebec, Canada
- i wrote some books and gave away library. i like to think that every poem is a love poem. i believe that "No" is a full sentence. i used to collect old books and young cats. i don't like noisy people, places or things. my three favourite words: yes, please, thank you. my favourite punctuation mark is the colon: i have a beautiful cat, a bicycle, an old typewriter, and a ladle. these things make me happy.
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