The tender loving bluebell
shined in all its glory
With the lightly yellow fragranced
Buttercup stood still in the midst
of a storm, minutes away a beautiful
Rose died of love and affection.
The red petals of the rose lay
At the bottom of burn ready to float
away never to be seen in all its pride
and Glory again.
It lay there battered bruised and broken.
Suddenly a fierce wind blew the sweet delegate
rose petals far away down the stream
Until they were not seen by the naked eye.
Sadly the the blue bell had lost its sparkle
And the buttercup lay in the field alone.
Without the bluebell and red rose.
Time had swiftly pasted and the buttercup
had withered away with pride
The field became a graveyard
Neither the bluebell nor the buttercup or
red roses were never ever seen again...

© 2012 ROSALIND