Rose Tinted
I’ve been pricked by
many a rose.
Drawn by the petals
that attract me,Reaching to grab that which exalts my heart,
My thoughts redundant to the pain
I bring upon myself with such careless folly;
Causing my blood to flow and stain my flesh
With such blush of self conscious arousal,
Making me retract my initial advances
And simply admire her aesthetic frivolity.
Re-cognition
Are you that
girl
That passed me by on
the gilded earth?Gave me an attack of epistaxis?
Back then, when I’d resigned myself to a future
Where we’d never meet.
Are you that girl
I saw almost a
lifetime ago,In another age?
Or am I merely
imagining that you are-
That girl who caught
my eye and threw it back,As if we’d found one another in an instant;
Falling in love for a moment.
Or did I just image
it
As I imagine it
now?
Anthony Ward tends to fidget with his thoughts in the hope of
laying them to rest. He has managed to lay them in a number of literary
magazines including The Faircloth Review, The Pygmy Giant, Jellyfish Whispers, Turbulence, Underground, The Bohemyth, Torrid
Literature Journal and The Weekenders,
amongst others.
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