This ray of sunshine
that spoils on the lips of poetry
with your passion
of gentle muse
lost in the dreams of the rose...
.... Like a flame that creates from its own sensitivity,
from its fragility
the whole art,
giving self to the rebirth of the world of words
with love, with abnegation,
with passion...
And the books slowly open tab by tab, word by word
metaphor by metaphor
rotating after the sun of poetry
in a perfect cosmogony
of petals stylization...
Ah this incendiary red of the meanings
from the dream of the rose...
© Without
