The blossom's tender touch, so frail,
Before the bow of spring's exhale,
The snow, a yielding, silent veil,
Has parted, whispering a tale
Of life reborn, a gentle grace.
Upon the earth's now open space,
The snowflower's heart, a soft embrace,
A fragile beauty, time can't erase.
The winter's grip, a fading dream,
Replaced by sun's rejuvenating beam,
The blossom's scent, a fragrant stream,
A promise whispered, hope's supreme.
From slumber deep, the world awakes,
As snow retreats, and springtime breaks,
The flower's soul, its spirit takes,
A tender whisper, nature makes.
Snowflower
© Copyright: Лариса Сенегал, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124091703395
Свидетельство о публикации №124091703395
Рецензии