Spun in silence, a silver rhyme
stretched across a pedal’s pose,
captured small in non-assuming
glimpses of a summer’s rose,
whose fragrant folds in burgundy
entreat the kindest living heart,
who gently pulls a threaded line
that there upon sweet life takes part…
in morning’s captured dewdrop,
in midday’s buzzing busy bee,
in evening’s calm and respite…
no grander world or scale will see
or care to ponder longer,
or dream beyond with longing eye,
for by a gossamer thread and rose,
all life transcends us by and by.
Gossamer Thread
Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul
It always amazes me how you create such perfect tribute poetry.
You are too kind Heather. Thank you for your sweet comments. I do appreciate it!
Call it like it is 🙂