Art Of The Heart

Scents Of Grace
 
 smiling at me from two feet above
 rose gifts me beyond time and place
her fragrance the closest to love
tickling my very sense of grace
 
breathing in her beauty my heart surely sings
beckoned now as a steward of rhyme
to express to the world the wonder she brings
from the earth to our hearts she climbs
 
in the garden of the outside and in
she dances as only she can
feeling the waltz of wonder begin
I blossom more fully as a man
 
lately rose has been sharing her woes
and her pain is not far from mine
so much of the nature she knows
is no longer treasured as divine
 
especially the tall ones she cries
the cedar, the fir, the spruce
without trees to caress the skies
our breath will be of little use
 
i sat up, my warm sheets falling away
the wind arguing with the night
I thought of what she had to say
thought of what I had to right
 
not with a pen or another piece of art
not with a call to state
but right the wrong in my own heart
so as to change our fate
 
opening the curtain to the dark
I see my own rose sleeping
waiting for spring's sacred spark
and the gifts of summer's own keeping
 
i get back under the covers
and touch the spot so adored
by all who are truly lovers
the heart never over explored
 
as my pillow disperses my thinking
and my dreams gain goddess speed
heaven knows love will be linking
 grace with the ground of our need
 
 
Dancing Wolf