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Poems

The Immortal Rose

There’s deceitful beauty where trees grow twisty
In a somber forest that’s shadowed and misty
Where light shines through in arrowlike shafts
And leaves stir faintly from gentle drafts.
There in a clearing stands a crystal bell jar
With a red rose inside that glows like a star.
For centuries not a single petal has fallen—
Neither in snowy seasons nor times of spring’s pollen.
Young trees around it have grown old and died,
Yet the rose has not wilted, faded, or dried.
Deathless, perpetual, unfading, enduring:
Without change, the rose has no chance of maturing.

Categories
Poems

The Singer

The singer sat on the curb
With her pick and guitar
And a bit of good herb.

She was raised in a bell jar
But came far from home.
She traveled by box car

And arrived all alone.
She left what she’d known.
Now she’s on the hard street
Eager for the world she’ll meet.