The rose, not yet opened, carries within
The seeds of it’s own destruction. For you see
The bee
Must sin
In the flower’s crimson heart
And the poet will call that art?
The rose, not yet opened, carries within
The seeds of it’s own destruction. For you see
The bee
Must sin
In the flower’s crimson heart
And the poet will call that art?
Oh wow, Kevin. That’s deep. I really like this one
Thank you, Lorraine. I’m delighted you like it. Best – Kevin
Best to you too. Have a goid Saturday
You too Lorraine, enjoy your weekend. Kevin
Brilliant, Kevin
Thank you, Robbie.