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Near the train station, it stands alone,
Dark and grave, soundless like a stone.
A wreath of sunshine, sanguine wings,
A graceful creature, a gifted king.
The mysterious chocolate Cosmos has a heart of coal,
Listens to no one, possesses a dreary soul.
It's emotionless and grand,
But I want to walk with it hand-in-hand.
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The Forgotten Language of Flowers
PoetryFlowers are gentle beings. They whisper tales as old as time. But with the passage of father time, the inhabitants of mother earth have forgotten all about their tales. Now, it is but a forgotten language. Let us explore the secrets of the blossoms...
