Sun pokes through 

Cloudy slate to kiss 

Soft piles of cherubic hair

Which mince and bob through 

The creamy balm 

Of roses air;

Tiny feet dancing 

At their roots 

 

One bloom fell 

I picked it up 

And brought it to my nose 

To inhale the sweet aroma 

Of freedom; of friendship— 

A Rose 

 

When a little girl in a

Purple cap

Reached out her hand 

And named the thing I held 

I had no choice 

But to relinquish it 

For it was always hers