Friday, August 10, 2012

Painted

Not every rose blooms the same,
A shade for every season,
Color to light the heart of men,
Some are brightly painted.

Red and white to scatter the light,
She dances amidst the thorns,
Passion and art she weaves,
From all our broken pieces.

Fragrant scent to carry away,
Recall the shores unseen,
Harken she draws us home,
The rose reminds the souls of men.

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