Regret not


Regret not

The shadows of dove

Not the emerald or the sad horse


Regret not

The dead Rose

Not the scars under the gloves


No matter the rivers that brought loss

Play the harp with the mist

Play among the fallen leaves

They could dance in your mind,

Sometimes troubled like the ghosts

Some others happy in the night

But they are all particles of the light

And they make you feel after all


Regret not

What would be the meaning of life

Without the emotions of love?


Poetry and Painting by Piccola D


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  • Maureen E. Doallas


    This is lovely, as all your poems are. "Regret not/ The dead Rose / Not the scars under the gloves" - what we hide as emblems of "love": so striking.