~¤~
I sometimes ponder,
What is it that I hide from the world,
And what is it that I reveal?
What is it that brings me the fortune,
Of being found by the softest hands,
Despite being behind the walls of thorns?
Are they lured to me,
because they can't see,
The disguised scars of my petals?
Or perhaps it is otherwise?
Perhaps it is the scent of my soul,
Natural, unhidden, and real,
That brings me other, real, people...
~¤~
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Cottage Chronicles
PoetryLife's chronicles from love, sorrow, anger, guilt, shame, happiness buried in a poetic cipher. Would you like some words and wine, on wooden floorboards? ©️ Feronia Grey
