With tides of red roses
in the estuary of dreams
with blooms in the throat
thoughts meet the unknown
a vast ocean on the horizon
memories of petals
in currents of deep silence
a heavy sweet perfume
born of silk and shadows
as a lone heron stands
a sentinel over the landscape
for the stems and buds`
dissolving in the twilight
as echoes fill the heavens
with tides of red roses








this is great… I could swear I can smell the roses all the way here.. nice job
Thank you, Sam.