Nature's wonder
A blossom emerges from the perils of a thorny vine
A beauty born out of a tangle of danger
Perfect silken petals stained crimson, the colour of blood,
the colour the thorn brings to those who approach its wonders carelessly
Ah, but to those who face the perils, bravely,
yet gently taking the vine, caressing it, moving gingerly,
knowing that the thorns are there to protect the precious gift this wonder has to offer
To this brave gentle soul a reward is granted To behold in complete awe,
to be totally consumed by the beauty
the complex simplicity within petals as soft as an angel's kiss

The red rose the symbol of Love
Both have perils yet both have wonderous rewards
Both have inspired poetry and the artist brush
Both have been looked upon and mused over by the greatest of minds,
and yet never fully understood,
as it should be,
for with full understanding comes the perils of carelessness,
and taking for granted hence the prick of the thorn,
the loss of love

My Love just as I do not take the beauty the rose offers for granted,
nor shall I ever take the beauty your love offers for granted
Both are precious gifts to be cherished and coveted As it is, so shall it be for ever more...



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