By Loetta Meister



Tender petals
Tightly curled
Make a rosebud
Not unfurled

Tender hearted
Little girl
Petals waiting
To uncurl
Lovely woman
Perfect rose
Given to the
Man she chose



I’m pink with joy
green with envy,
I’m blue and sad,
my colors many.

The spectrum lends
my flesh it’s tone,
without my colors
I’m skin and bone.
What wakens then
when my heart sees
fuchsia, chartreuse
or tangerine?
Love, compassion,
what pretty colors
they must be.




Loetta Meister is a poet and grandmother living in Fulton, Missouri.

These poems are among the entries for the Society of Classical Poets’ 2012 Poetry Competition.

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