
What is the fearless courage of a poet,
but a tender rose;
reaching and climbing higher,
upon the vines of structure.
A strong twine laced together,
by the crevices of a hungered soul.
A bloom,
whose aroma draws you near,
amidst the jagged atmosphere.
One can only wonder,
do thorns bleed intention or protect us sharply,
from the truth,
beneath the rose,
hidden in our souls.





I really did enjoy this and the image that you created was beautiful.. Best of wishes for you granny dearest..
12 old applause
