The Flower
Among the garden of many,
grew one....
different from the rest,
gentle, quite and soft,
tender were it's petals...
Surrounding the flower
were ones of bight color,
loud and demanding of attention,
making the flower doubt it's beauty.
He came one day to look upon the garden,
Stopping to look at the one,
growing quitely and soft,
there amoung the many,
He touched it,
the tender petals begin to open,
exposing to Him it's inner beauty,
He gently kissed the tender flower,
touching it like no One else.
He then moves on,
strolling through the garden,
sadness comes upon the flower,
dew falls from it's petals,
afraid it has been forgotten.
The flower closes once more,
hiding once again it's beauty,
still soft and quiet,
growing amoung the many,
waiting and hoping ...
someday to be touched again.