The Little Rose Tree

Every rose on the little tree

Is making a different face at me!

Some look surprised when I pass by,

And others droop—but they are shy.

These two whose heads together press

Tell secrets I could never guess.

Some have their heads thrown back to sing,

And all the buds are listening.

I wonder if the gardener knows,

Or if he calls each just a rose?

Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.