Citrus-y, thornless,
Rose rises
intense, even after slumber.
Between mountain mounds
shy, gray,
cuffed clouds
only come so close –
bedazzled by her beauty.
Exuberant,
Rose cries,
‘Here! Have some of mine!’
And so she scatters,
at first sparingly
then recklessly
her gorgeous hue.
Thrilled, each cloud beams
after blushing.
Soon no rose remains for Rose,
generous to a fault.
April 2, 2012
Salt Lake City, Utah
broccoli4breakfast (musings of a part-time mystic) 
I love this poem. Thank you for your creativity and for giving us part of yourself today. I miss you terribly….Angie
Oh, Angie! Thanks so much! I forgot you were one of my “followers” –I’m so glad you liked this poem! I was waiting for the Trax (electric train) and watched the sky transform itself as the rosy sun Rose. It was so beautiful.
Love you, my dear friend! xJen