Wild - Roses

Beautiful...Wild Roses,
Placed upon the stem.
So velvet to the touch,
Each...shining like a gem.

Deep yellow in color,
And in the upper caste.
It sifts upon the atmosphere,
In fragrance...sweet to last.

Filling through the summer's air,
Down around the bend.
Would it could keep blooming,
And in beauty...never end.

So lush...portrayed in softness,
As I...through branches peek.
Gently, gently, very gently,
I raise them now...to touch my cheek.

Wild you are...and beautiful,
Growing by the inland row.
You are such a joy to vision,
Petaled in your brightest show.


E.P. 1908 - 1989