PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The rain slowly dies,

yet do we mourn,

or do we simply move on,

and smile upon the rays of sunshine

that have been bestowed upon us.

The rain gone,

the sun up,

but this does not mean the storm has passed.

The wind carries memories

memories of what was, and

the cloud they form visions

creatively showing whats to come

if I dare see it, but

I shield my eyes for I want to be surprised

or maybe it's because I can't bare to know.

Petals of the rose I pick freely

freeing them from the thorns that invade thier home

and the thorn it does prick

the blood drips freely

at first just a drop then two

and it falls upon the petals

and as if resurrected

the rain falls once more

washing my stain from the petals

but i will always be with the petal and the thorn,

and the rain drops one memory at a time

the ones I like to remember, and

the ones I can't seem to forget.

The wind caresses me, and

whispers a melody.

the jorney is not easy, but

is still a beautiful thing.



Cx Patterson