By J. Lynne Moore
Heart of love blossoms new,
Meek, to mild, to explosion, grew.
Give me away, you win indeed;
Hold me to close, you slowly bleed.
Watered with tears of joy’s marrow,
Drown with the tears of wholesome sorrow.
An elegant dress of a rainbow hew,
Tights of emerald green too.
A life lived in honor, freed;
In death I leave a lovely seed.
By any other name you may call me,
But beauty is all you will see.
A/N – My son challenged me to write a poem describing a rose without using the words, rose, thorn, flower, petal, red or bouquet.
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