Crimson Flower

The whole year was based upon friends.

The kind of friend that lends,
The kind of friend that mends,
The kind of friend that bends,

You lent me some light,
So i continued to fight,

You mended my soul,
So i made my life count in whole,

You bent my path upward,
So i pressed on forward,

People speak on Guardian Angels,
Watching over them,

You are mine.

I had a crush on you most of this year,
But my stupid self had too much fear,
To ever let you hear,
I love you,

For your the fern,
That wouldn't burn,

For your the stars,
That beat all the cars,

You the bell, In that old cell,
That never Fell, Close to Hell,

Your the Crimson Flower.

Author's Note

Dedicated to Samantha P. I Love You.

Reviews

[Raven Starhawk]

A poem sure to have charmers flock to its beauty. You write such a lovely description of classic intelligence.