A Rose Bud

A tiny bud peering through the thorns of hate,

Pushing though making a statement.

That a new life is on it’s way,

Which will bring love to the air around.

The first rays of sunlight and a drop of rain,

Nourishing with care and growing strong.

The bud is on it’s way to being a rose,

A lovely red rose.

The scent of love is in the air.

Pretty as a picture

Is the rose, between the deadly thorns.

Showing it is possible to grow, as long as you’re strong.

A passing man stops and watches the graceful red rose.

Thinks of his love and thinks it is right.

(That rose is a beautiful sight)            

Written: 15.12.1993