Valery Petrosyan. (№ 400319)

In puddles, clouds float,
the last snow has withered,
and pine trees keep the blue
on bronze shoulders.
In all keys sing the streams,
that's all in your hands,
walk important rooks
in shabby coats.
Rain - the pearly dew,
blizzards in memory of years,
I like the fire of love, bear
purple roses bouquet.
Get the flowers, I'm not breathing,
hear - hot...
and bluish dove soul
on white shoulder.