Another day, another yay!Mist of the morning ray,Kissing the cheeks of my windowpane.Fragile petals, delicate sepals,A flower herein, whispering something through the early breeze. Mr. Gardener, I hope you won’t cut my bud, throw away even before my last petal fall off the ground.Neither am I, a ‘Red rose,’ courageous enough to stand out amongstContinue reading “Garden”
Asympthoughts 