Something More…
Something More…
The grace of a flower
Never sheds.
Everyday a new colour it treads…
If it were pink,
It turns red.
The grace of a flower
Never sheds.
In some language unknown,
They speak to me,
And I to them.
How pleasant it would be,
If they knew my language,
And I was known
To them.
They are fragrance, blossom
And colour galore!
To me,
They are
Blossoms wanting eternity,
Something new,
Something more…