Three short poems.

Three short poems.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
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A Spring flower

Was a Spring flower,
so tall and so beautiful.
Was a Spring flower,
that reached for the sky and
the sky and the sun adored her.
She would dance with the wind and
the wind would whisper love songs to her.
Late Summer came and the flower slowly weaken and faded away.
The sky cries great rain/snow and the sun hid behind the clouds.
In early Spring,
the flower appeared again.
The rain and snow stopped and
the sun shined from morning dawn to nightly dust.
The gentle wind danced with the beautiful flower again and.
the world became beautiful and wonderful once again

The Lover (A soldier prayer)

Poor boys and men.
Their roads lead to War.
Young woman with a sweet smile.
Silk dress.
Smelling like sweet Spring flowers.
She Whispered, “let’s us dance tonight.
You shall go to War and
tonight we need to create photos for the heart.
memories to keep you warm when you are lonely and afraid.”
Young man brought the sweet woman close.
Whispered kind words of love and thankfulness.
A soldier stand alone and
he is cleaning his M-16.
Death is all around him.
He closes his eyes.
He remembered.
The smell of flowers.
The feel of the silk dress.
The sweet smile of his love.
Keeps him human
Wild roses

I know the wild rose.
Her beauty had tempted me for many months and
she would dance with me when the songs were good.
She was a long legged woman who had wild blue eyes and loved the whisky and the long night.

I loved her auburn hair and her kind and sweet voice.
She told me often.
“Wild roses grow where they want. They know pretty lies and story. The wild rose grow near the river and the thorns can make you bleed for the remnant of love that is left and lulls the breath of wishes, that cannot be fulfilled. Old lovers may weep but the wild rose cannot.”

I told her often. Free men fear not the wild roses. The taste of the sweet kiss and the loving embrace would be enough. Heavy darkness and desperate loneliness become the night when lover’s wish is not fulfilled. Love is sweet and can very dangerous. You will bleed and weep for love often. Better to have slowed danced and known the gentle touch of the wild rose. Men, who do not know the blushing rose. They yearn for the dance with the wild rose always.

She smiled and whispered. “Brave soldier who fear not the night or the ending. You shall know the deep sadness one day. The wild roses are free and men want to hold and control all things. I shall break your heart.”

I brought her closer and I knew her words were true and I still loved and needed my wild rose.