The Rose
The tiny fresh bud in my garden,
Slowly bloomed into a bright rose,
Spreading exquisite fragrance all around,
That’s what it decided and chose.
Holding its head high in every storm,
Innocence lies in the way it smiles,
No matter what lies in the eyes of beholder,
It urges a smile at least for a while.
Sometimes offered to the Almighty God,
Or woven in a garland for a noble cause,
Sometimes trampled under harsh feet,
Still its scent engulfs us which we must applause.
It suffers pain to provide us with royal delicacies,
And brings joy and brightens many lives,
So friends, to make each other smile and happy,
Can’t we humans like God’s greatest creation, strive?
Copyright © Mahua Chopra | Year Posted 2017
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