your slightest look will easily unclose me,
though I have closed myself as fingers,
you open petal by petal
myself
as spring opens her first rose
e.e. cummings
oh, how I adore poetry....I know its not a rose,
but all my blogging chicas were showing off their poppy finery...they
arrived here in all their fiery explosive glory...better late than
never I suppose...hope you are having a beautiful week end!