 |
Happy Birthday, Darling!
One day--thinking only of
beauty--
the rose already had been
made;
followed by poets who adorned
them,
insuring they would never
fade--
so He thought...and thought...
"for one such as I,
who spoke into
being blue of the sky--how
could
I ever rest, until created,
the
absolute best?"
By Joe DiMino who retains all rights.
|