the color of roses~oh how i love to get a rosethe color of roses
the differen kinds are the best
to get one is such a wonderful thing here are the colors that others like to get Red- love,compassion, and life yellow-friendship white- death
but the one people would love to get would be black which cold mean anything but to me they mean dark love or wonderful love~
A LifetimeHope is such a fragile word That all of us should know. Caress it deep within your heart. Let it flourish and grow.A Lifetime
Let silence speak once and for all The swansong for a rose. For Judgement Day before his friends; Forgiveness that they chose.
The choir of mine sings yet again Of angels, sirens, and lore. For I have chose a steady path Where sorrow is no more.
People change, though hearts do not. They sing from beat to beat. Fate of dreams and her magic eyes; In destiny they shall meet.
The BouquetI walk into a flowershop To see what I might buy. Some roses placed upon a shelf Soon quickly catch my eye.The Bouquet
Yellow, red, white, and black. Their colors as they're shown. All wrapped in lace, of the finest kind. It's like a flag being flown.
As I buy this unique bouquet The yellow begins to bloom. I smile as I take it home And place it in my room.
Time does pass, the first rose dies and the second smells twice as sweet. With unique beauty, and crimson petals, This rose beholds a rare treat.
As the red rose still stands fi
The NightWalking in moonlight shadows; Seeing the writer's star. A breeze picks up ungently; It's strength has made me mar.The Night
A grave I should belong in, It still looks toward this way. My star keeps me from looking To the Advent of May.
The place I should belong to Indeed, I still don't know. Eyes growing distant from stars Chosing no path to go.
I've been shunning my future. Been dwelling on the past. Hopefully, on a fateful night The memory will cease to last.
RevelationThe dream of tomorrow Is more than just a dream. The scars that have happened Are healing it should seem.Revelation
My past is before me Like a council in a church. I admit all my confessions. My life rests on a perch.
The council looks down at me, With strong pitiless eyes. I know my time is coming. They judge all my demise.
How hesitant I'm being, But have waited for this time. They look past all my mistakes. They see I've done no crime.
A simple common theory That time will heal all wounds. The Lord has indeed bless
love
Joy
--
"Love means journey. It is about the people we meet and the things we see. It is about the hills and the valleys, the rain and the sun. It is about yesterday, and today, and tomorrow, and how we choose to face them all."
-- Tabitha Reed
--
"Love means journey. It is about the people we meet and the things we see. It is about the hills and the valleys, the rain and the sun. It is about yesterday, and today, and tomorrow, and how we choose to face them all."
-- Tabitha Reed
--
"Love means journey. It is about the people we meet and the things we see. It is about the hills and the valleys, the rain and the sun. It is about yesterday, and today, and tomorrow, and how we choose to face them all."
-- Tabitha Reed
Previous PageNext Page