O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

WHEN WE ARE APART
By @bestlitutgist
Sent in by Carrie Pemberton-Ford
from a sign outside a church.

We are not ourselves when we are apart.
We are less than what we can be.
We are so much more when we are together.
One day we will be together again. And we will celebrate and grieve.
Then our task would be not to forget what we learnt
When we were apart.