Poem Hunter
Superstites Rosae
RR ( / )

Superstites Rosae

The grass is green upon her grave,
   The west wind whispers low;
"The corn is changed, come forth, come forth,
   Ere all the blossoms go!"

In vain. Her laughing eyes are sealed,
   And cold her sunny brow;
Last year she smiled upon the flowers --
   They smile above her now!

User Rating: 2,8 / 5 ( 16 votes ) 1

Other poems of RICHARD ROWE (2)

Comments (1)

I love the old feel of your beautiful poem