Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Under a tall oaken tree
Shaded and hidden sat she.
Cast from jaded eyes, tears fall times three.
Forlorn she whispers of what could be.

“Weep no more my lady,” I ask of she.
“Weep no more my lady” I gently plead.
“For there hath been a tale just for thee,
“Tis legend of the rose who weeps”

“Thus hath been told throughout time”
“Tis a land where no sun hast shine”
“Where in a land of no rain grows”
“Our mystical weeping rose”

“Legend be it upon our weeping rose”
“Shall appear a single tear”
“Tis color only known to who it shows”
“For Tis within the color of this tear”
“True loves honest intention doth appear”

“Weep no more my lady”
“For now, thee shall see”
“The crimson tear,”
“Of the weeping rose. “

© 2015 copyright Dell Anne Raye
All Rights Reserved