Pure

She was pure,
Like a white petalled rose,
Twinkling as the pale moonlight,
Soft as a summer briese.

She was pure,
Like an early sunrise,
Shining on the foggy lake,
Gently as the sea.

But even a rose has bleeding thorns,
And the sea will have white horses.

Dear WHI,

Here is my tenth poem, I hope you like it!

Loads of love,
Mieke