Prince of Roses

I could write a thousand songs for your majesty,
but the rains would still fall, and autumn come,
and at the end of the day, fall leaves your hair
would brush against my cheeks among the red oaks,
I would smell your bonfires, hear your guitar slip
into the empty spaces of the branches canopy to fly
like geese flocking south, while I migrated North
to the highest castle’s walled rose gardens, red
petals a musk on stone pathways through the water,
you are the prince of brier blooms, wings cotton
leftover from milkweed, soft as the rolling clouds
over the valley of my heart, sweet archangel, kiss
away all my fear and bathe me in the sun, embrace
me on the edge between poetry and prose, I am your
fledgling, you are my falcon, eternal saint, smile.

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10 thoughts on “Prince of Roses

  1. Love your work. To try to describe your style and subject matter one would have to write as well as you in the same way. I don’t think anyone else would.
    Starts with poetic topics which you show intricate understanding of. You play through the words rhythmically and with metaphor.
    I sincerely hope you have written projects planned for your ‘dreaming’?
    I have ordered one such work from Katrina Cain which I cannot wait to read.

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