Rain and roses
He stooped and kissed the petals rare.

With eagerness I did persist

To see the flower the angel kissed.

And there it grew a thing intact,

The flower upon my lady’s hat.

It stood a straight slim tossing flame

And I had yet to learn its name.

With this in mind I tried to talk,

But the angel only sped his walk.

I could have cried for very shame,

Then someone called me by my name.

The room was pink with morning light,

Because dreams vanish with the night;

And things are not what they seem,

I called the little flower “dream.”

{75}

Shine and Shower

IT’S the cross that makes the triumph

I

A glorious thing to share,


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