Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Sanguine not Sangreal!

I am surrounded by roses!
They are the colour of blood.
The pin-pricked finger
Has begot a bud.
Petals unfurling till it drops
Upon my frozen feet.

Why is it thus?
The life force gently flowing
And my feet are cold?


Warm blood,
Warm blooded me.
Too much heat!
Gone now,
In a trice.
Whatever that is.

Life's too short!

Post a Comment