Roses, sleeping
Frozen fingers moved close To feel the touch of the rose. Lying still a wee bit away the rose was still not awake to the caprice of the winter sun. The three of the roses lay in sleep like children longing for warmth. Do not wake up so soon O rose. You were a bud last night when you went to sleep. May the touch of the sun astonish you if you suddenly wake up and find A strange aroma of a new morning has wrapped you all around. Sushama Karnik 4 days ago