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The rose
Vermilion hue decorates your gracious head
Bloom for any man in the universe
Some men will find you in haste
Other will miss you in search in toil late
Bless he that on timely found his rose
Alas the one who his rose miss
At the path of his life no bliss
His light vanquish
And he left like a blind in solitude and anguish
At anguish evening of forlorn winter
When meadows hide beneath dark clouds
Look your image in the mirror of your life
Your lovely rose plucked by a stranger hand
And you left naked to bare and to pretend
Copy rights 2010
poem
by
Isaac Ziv
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