Ode to the White Rose*

Whence White Rose
Thou drop down Thine
Morning's veil upon me,
How have  i,
Seen the sea Mediterranean
In you, lapping up,

White rose a bunch
Upon Thou, la amore
Whence I perceive  i think i become
Old Amadore,
Sitting looking out of the window,
Casement through which
Thou turn up,
Draped by vines,

Singing mild
Love with which He
Taught Thou to smile,
And to paint pictures of rivers
And oceans, and trees,  the morning hanging sweet
At the piazza, with smell of tulips
Pomegranate seeds
Left for me, like dreams in drops of dew,
Like diamonds resting on palms of leaves,
All can i see, in You, sitting before me,

Whence LOVE Thou arrive
Taking me to make a plunge
In Your tubs of paints, a dive,
I try to be,
Painter true,
Thinking of Goddess,
Only You.

(*Note: upon a painting by Jon Paul)


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