Poetry From The Heart by Barbara Ann Smith 
  Barbara Ann Smith

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 The Gift Of Life

I pick a white rose,
full of dew drops,
fragrances of mountain breeze.

I place it in a small clear vase,
set it in my windowsill,
petals of fine silk.

I return later in the day:
no energy, petals curled,
the dead rose
awakens my fleeting life.
Our bodies wither and age,
the lively plant is precious


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