Friday, September 16, 2011

Poem #565

Trying out a new rhyme scheme!

Flower Bud 

Bursting out in a beautiful flood, 
Crimson, red, the color of blood. 
Every year with springtime comes, 
The opening of the flower bud. 

Winter’s cold cuts like a knife, 
Bringing on an icy strife. 
A shroud that covers each end of Earth, 
Before spring comes and brings new life. 

But soon nature ends its fight, 
And spring brings in a glorious light. 
The flower bud holds secrets no more, 
Banishing the endless night. 

The spring opens the flower bud, 
Crimson, red, the color of blood.

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