Romance and mystery.
A yellow rose lay on the snow - its story yet for me to know - a mystery to unfold Was it dropped by careless hands or a grieving soul who could no longer grasp? Was it one of many just left behind? Perhaps fallen in the midst of a lovers’ kiss? Its petals still fresh and soft have not rested in this place too long So I looked about to see the one who left it simply lying on the snow But no one could be seen and silence drowned my quest Even footprints left no trace to tell the story of this... Sign in to see full entry.