My Dry Roses

Today is not your birthday,
However, it is a very illustrious day
To offer you the dry roses
That I soaked in a lot of love from head to toes.

These dried flowers, although picked some time,
Will infinitely remain fresh like a wrapped buried dime.
You will neither have to feed them like children,
Nor water them like the camellias in the vipers' garden.

My crystallized roses transcend the four seasons,
They are protected by deadly thorns and one crazy smurf;
The rocks are part of this solemn army.

There are no bad days on earth;
Every day has its own criteria and beauty.
My roses are endless like time and the horizon.

poem by Hebert Logerie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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