My Dusty Rose
Patiently
Passionately
Waiting
First a bud
Fleshing out
swelling
Where is the rain
So wonderous
Never been here before
Now
Now it opens
Hot is the Dusty Rose
Fragrant in the storm
Beauty
Bold
Prominent in the sun
Alone
Tender
Vestal
Guarded by silver thorns
Many sighs
Many sighs
Throbbing
Colours matching
Fading pain
No longer a bud
No longer swollen
The rain is gone
Colours darken
Deepen
Still
The silver thorns gaurd our retreat
Healing wounds whisper of sighing
Much sighing
Imploring
waiting
Yet waiting
For the bloom
Anyway
Reason for writing:
It's real
Birth sign: Not entered
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