THE HIDDEN ROSE
INTO the clear sky
Where no moon grows,
Like smoke wends up the cry
Of earthly woes.
Up through the shrouded bars
Where the stream fors lows
Shine forth imprisoned stars
Of heaven's repose.
Round hidden point of rest
Loveliness goes,
Swirling hues will end our quest,
Regain The Rose.
March 15, 1936
Page-170