She walks by, leaving a trace of scent
with her own volition and beauty
Gracing the soul with sedentary thoughts
of loveliness and charm;
The rose is an emblem of God's love for us
she is always, on duty...
I can't be as poetic as Jerry, but I can say that I recall the roses growing in the ditches along my mile drive to town in West Virginia. Those hardy wild roses came back every summer without nurture or pruning. Making the world a better place for us to see and smell.
Thankfully there is still much beauty in this world. That image could be the cover of a book. Delightful, as are your thoughts here. Thanks for sharing. r
From woman I take mysterious crevices
And build from within
I pluck from warm southern winds
Evolving spirits and calming influences
Molding clay comes next
Merging within the framework has begun
The deep crevices pulsate with expectation
I surround this embryo with clear mountain dew
To immortalize
To nurture its beauty
And satisfy its thirst
As it begins to bud and flower
I squeeze aroma from distant, foreign lands
A pleasing scent to bestow joy and smiles
A rod of thorns, sharp
Blood spiller if mishandled
I stand back
Observe my creation
Not quite satisfied
Handling carefully I cup in my hands
The burgundy and crimson hue
Of aurora borealis
Let it trickle from my palms
Onto the folds and crevices
A pleasing flush
Or maybe a blush
Ahh . . .
I stand back still not satisfied
And so I bend
And christen thee with a kiss
Bestowing upon thou a soul of your own
And baptize thee . . .
Rose
In "A Touch of Your Presence" are words that would inspire, encourage and strengthen one's soul when faced with challenges and difficulties and to know the awesomeness of God's power.
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surrounding us
with beauty divine
Thank you
beloved Mystic Rose
Ron
From woman I take mysterious crevices
And build from within
I pluck from warm southern winds
Evolving spirits and calming influences
Molding clay comes next
Merging within the framework has begun
The deep crevices pulsate with expectation
I surround this embryo with clear mountain dew
To immortalize
To nurture its beauty
And satisfy its thirst
As it begins to bud and flower
I squeeze aroma from distant, foreign lands
A pleasing scent to bestow joy and smiles
A rod of thorns, sharp
Blood spiller if mishandled
I stand back
Observe my creation
Not quite satisfied
Handling carefully I cup in my hands
The burgundy and crimson hue
Of aurora borealis
Let it trickle from my palms
Onto the folds and crevices
A pleasing flush
Or maybe a blush
Ahh . . .
I stand back still not satisfied
And so I bend
And christen thee with a kiss
Bestowing upon thou a soul of your own
And baptize thee . . .
Rose
©May 10, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton