POEM


flowers blue rose

BLUE BEAUTY

In the inner soul lys the passion,

Like fine spun threads with rythm,

Bitter, blue and cold sometimes this may be,

Yet delicate and beautiful even in the bluest mood,

As you could plainly see,

Who nourshises this delicate beauty,

Who or what causes this blue beauty to reflect this

so deep and captivating image, so very misty blue,

Crushing chaos maybe,

Or, the other plants with their absinthal comments springing forth

so shrewed,

Yet delicate and beautiful even in the bluest mood,

As you could plainly see,

Was it selfish hurling winds and storms,

Or boistrous, hard driven drouts not letting even a shimmer

of beauty to sprout,

“No!”You will not blossom!” shouted the harsh, bitter, fridget temperatures,

freezing anything that dared to peek a petal,or leaf of any type,

or form,

Blocking anything sprouting, anything peering out,

Yet delicate and beautiful even in the bluest mood,

As you could plainly see,

Nothing was allowed for admiration, or inspiration,

No, nothing,and it did not matter the reason at all,

The temperatures were fierce and cruel, they were bandits,gluttons,

They angrily engulfed the lovely, delicate, fragile, blue rose

with passion,

Yet delicate and beautiful even in the bluest mood,

As you could plainly see,

The vinegary forces endevored to keep its intelligence and beauty troddened down,

Pushed under, so that no one would ever appreciate what blue beuaty

the delicate, fragile flower could offer the archtypes,

typical specimens of the world,

They only wanted her scolded,laddened with sullen, wilted frowns,

But then one sparkling, radiant, glorious day,life was no longer bleek,

and then granted was the freedom that should have always have been,no longer

would she be impearled,

Yet delicate and beautiful even in the bluest mood,

As you could plainly see,

A friend, one day, called golden sparkles came her way with rays of dashing,

valiant protection daring anyone to tresspass this dark, blue beauty,the ambrosial rose,

and he saturated it with his pure love for her nourishement,

Then, all of the creepy crawlers vacated the premises and found else where to pester, dig and claw,

or land upon her with heavy crashing,and crushing,

And with the help of some fresh dew, and a drop of rain or two,it bloomed with pure love,

patience and encouragement,

Yet delicate and beautiful even in the bluest mood,

As you could plainly see,

The delicate speciment of rare, beauty blue emerged,”Blue Beauty,”

rare and delicate,

Can’t help but fasten my eyes toward you,and your intelligence,

spirit stirring, reaching beauty and charm,

With exemplar,soul reaching radiant splendor to behold, admire and view,

relish, and apprecitae,

You bring about a comforting calm,

Yet delicate and beautiful even in the bluest mood,

As you could plainly see.

Written by

Author Thelma Cunningham

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