Like a rose in a garden of different flowers, concerned of her thorns, because not all possess them, unsure of how she'll rise above the rest and bloom bright, but as if it's in her DNA she knows she can, so she presses on.
If only it was as easy as a conversation or a song to flowers to help them grow, I'd tell you beautiful, that your thorns along with your natural beauty is what makes you a cut above the rest, continue on your rise no matter how fast or slow it might seem, and you'll see beautiful rose, that you'll rise through the concrete if your heart so pleases.
I'd sing you the most beautiful song, every morning, all night long, and watch you grow, for you're definitely a beauty I'd hate to miss. Inside out, as beautiful as they all say and far beyond, for they see not the depth of your beauty.
I'm sure they see that your lips are indeed like the inside of a rose, and privileged the few who actually got to taste this truth, but have they taken the time to examine your heart, your beautiful mind, and your appreciation for your heart's desires when given the chance to be yourself?
Days after you've gone I still smell your fragrance around, sometimes I wonder if I should let you wear my crown, a garden with you as the centerpiece, a garden that would always bring me adventure, pleasure, a peaceful ambiance, love in her own way, ease.
Beautiful, continue to grow, continue to give your young roses shade, this is my conversation, this is my song, should I not be able to sing to you every morning, or all night long. Your fragrance will be with me, our electrifying kisses, the warth of your hug, the way your body reacted to my every touch.
Beauty like a rose, I'm glad the day life led me to your garden, and what blossomed after your eyes met mine.
By Paul B. Peddie
May 19, 2017.
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