By no comparison,
are my petal’s like any other,
my rose is eccentric,
visually stimulated by mood
To change colors, like my eyes,
both have over witnessed tons of follies,
but continuously my petal’s stand grounded,
due too many more, outstanding, qualities.
My rose’s red aura, is my heart, bleeding, needing,
love and it’s notions, to write about, like oxygen,
Yellow amplifies my bold story, acquaintances, close contacts, caution, glory, the non chaotic, perfection, that keeps things in order,
My growth, and healing combined, needed like pebbles in springs, to purify the water’s.
24kt dipped rose,
It’s aura is so rich,
fully equipped, of roots, royalty, loves seniority, sensuality, every aspect of appeal, with undying loyalty, expression,
my heart’s armour and shield, humour, romance, a mysterious riddle in which too reveal.
Exposure of a golden rose, standing in my presence, without, need of the sun,
As my petal’s open lovingly for peace,
unmoved by circumstances, that appear beneath me, too cast a shadow, too outshine, once I’ve won.
Even as the wind, heavy rain
and tree’s, violently swing,
but desirably, pass my thorns,
As my beauty admirably capture butterfly wings.
as my gold aura, needs nothing, nothing at all of me, for it is, everything.
Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright © 2017