Poet’s Corner: Soft Grows the Rose

Woman won’t live by bread alone;

but a little flower helps.

Happy the home where this is known

and rewards rise from tender lips.

Snow in the mountain

and droplets of dew

Words gently spoken

to babies who coo.

Sunshine on the garden

shadows by a tree

Movies that hearten

the morals in me.

How steely the sword goes

it’s wake so tragic!

How cursive the pen flows;

waving out magic.