National Poetry Month: Roses Are Red

Roses Are Red Roses are red, my love, soft crimson or scarlet The colour of velvet wine so cloying like blood I remember the red rain that night petals falling And the half open window, breeze fluttering spattered curtains Roses are red, my love bang, bang you’re dead © A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights... Continue Reading →


Powered by

Up ↑