Smiles the choice of rose hips hue
Who brings me the tears of rainbows blue?
And smiles the choice of rose hips hue
that brings to me the moons gentle dew?
With kisses soft; as slender new.
Who brings me the laughter of bluebells white?
And dances those greens; like a garden sprite.
That brings to me the azure mornings light?
Like a thistledown angel; lost in flight.
Who brings me a meadows flowing flaxen hair!
And whispering words spellbinding without a care
that brings too me a same sense of wonders rare?
Like woodland lilies under a leaf mould layer.
Who brings me the moons gentle dew..?
With kisses soft; as slender new..?
With smiles the choice of rose hips-hue.
Why; yes, my child it’s you!
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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