i paint a lot of roses and i don’t know why
they’re not even my favorite flower
Ｉ ｍｅｍｏｒｉｚｅ ｍｙ ｇｒａｎｄｍａ， ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｓｈｅ ｗａｓ ｔｈｅ ｒｅａｌ ｔｒｕｅ ｗｏｍａｎ ｗｈｏ ｔｏｏｋ ｏｖｅｒ ｔｈｅ ｔａｓｋ ｔｏ ｐａｓｓ ｄｏｗｎ Ｃｈｉｎｅｓｅ ｃｕｌｔｕｒｅ ａｎｄ ｌｉｔｅｒａｔｕｒｅ
i have a late date tonight
not with a lover
though i wish that were the case
born of raindrops sparkling through sun,
they say the gods and goddesses are dead.
the lure of tulips
It was still a bit wet on the ground.. the sun shining through…………I didnt got the chance to see him.Yet my beautiful dress played out and got dirty later on.
She was gone, or i was gone running….? finally back home….? or where….. I dont know. What i do clearly remember is that was a soft, white beautiful, Marria like hand touched me.
It had been a blustery night…the streets were paved with incense, stained with the red juices where passers by had unknowingly brewed aromatic wine with their footsteps during the night…
The poem starts:“A garden is a lovesome thing” and everyday when I walk through my gardens, (there are two gardens, one in the front and one in the back of my house), that poem runs in m…
Oh, to be a lady of light!
I am a sport –
I know I irritate the cautious, alarm the careful,
shock the frightened.
That’s too bad –
children grown and gone,
my neighbor Pierre has
all the time in the world
Bloom on, bright beauty,
while the summer sun still shines
I have gone, gone afar away
On the forehead memories
Blindness shine below eyelids
Misguided years and the cities
Somewhere beginning of alley
Let I feelings and faces
Departed now last train
The love in so…
not all beautiful things grow
in the well-manicured garden
i am a red rose – love triumphant lives! –
my velvet petals curl around your heart.
Let not your heart be as inconstant
as the fragile rose,
whose gaudy show is short flamboyance lived
Perhaps one of these days I’ll see the bloodred roses in their reality,
wilted, scent long faded, leaves and stems as brown as mud…