Poetry

"Crimson Vase
your primrose fades,
there is dust upon the shelving.
The spider climbs
along your side,
and who knows just why he is delving."
The friends, indeed, for lonely flowers
are only but a few,
'cause no one cares for a crimson vase,
though beauty lies in you.
"Time has wrought no harm or shame
upon your reddish tone,
but what has made your glory shine
was forgotten,
left alone."
"Crimson vase
I knew you well,
you were brought here with caress.
They made you shine
'cause your flowers gave hope
to the soul so lost in sadness."
"But the friends you have for those lonely
flowers
are now only but a few.
Oh, Crimson Vase
what unfair fate
that now no one cares for you!"