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Rose Rocks
I’m here to seek a special rose,
Won’t someone tell me where it grows?
On red earth cracked and blistered so?
Where muddy sluggish rivers flow?
Planted on the trail of tears?
Were roses petrified by fears?
Or did they grow in clay so long that clay grew into them?
I’ll search until I find this rose, this dusky flower gem
I did search long but rather sought,
Than find a rose that could be bought,
Such rapturous joy nothing could match,
When I stumbled on a patch,
My eye seized little faster than hand,
What grew upon the red clay sand,
And now at last, I have my treasure,
Roses that will perish never,
For me to look at and to share,
And show to people everywhere
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(A month spent in Oklahoma inspired this. I wrote the first part before I went searching at
Lake Stanley Draper. I wrote the rest when I came back. I did find some! They are so cool!)
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