A Rose

A rose
soft, gentle,
scent sweet.
A thorn to prick
Blood to drip,
Petals soaked in red
Becoming withered;dead,
Red wine to taste
And seeing his face
In the garden.
A rose
Gripping
Blood dripping,
Tears red
To shed.
Roses and wine
To be mine,
To taste,
To see his face in the garden
His smile to send
For a rose to bloom within. ©LauraLynnPoetry

Picture present here is from a shared site on Google and the artist was not listed

The Run

I feel the run,
The need
The fuel
The muscle burning
As the legs
push forward.
The breathing
Steady, fast, hard
The heart
Beating in rhythm.
The wind cool
Fast against the skin,
The feet
pushing through the grass
Over the hills
Through the tress
Limbs hitting the leaves.

I feel the run,
The need
Fueling the power
To go faster
Faster up the hill.
Need the climb
The burn in my muscles
The top is not far.
I hear them
Panting behind me
Soon they will be
Beside me
Running with me,
Running as one.
I can hear their call
In the distance behind
I burn harder
Needing to feel the wind more
To feel free.
They are beside me now,
I can feel the softness
As they brush me,
Fueling me with
Their strength,
Carrying me with
Their love.

I feel the run,
The need
Muscles burning
Carrying me up the hill,
The heart beating faster
Breathing flowing harder.
I feel this run
A victory to be won
And we are all running as one
To the top
The very top
To stand together
Beside each other
At the top
The very top.
Wind strong, demanding
The howl in the distance
The call rumbling in the chest,
From my lips, I howl
And they bow,
For I feel the run
And we are one,
We are one!

07/15/2010

copyright2010