IN THE GARDEN OF LOVE
IN THE GARDEN OF LOVE
Here, where roses grow, both tended and wild
This secret garden that so few people do know
Each flower is a stem intertwined with another
Such that they both rise, perhaps fall, together
Yet even though towards the sunlight they go
They can also relish darkness and be reconciled
Their petals may be different hues and shades
Yet to them, that is of such little consequence
A symbol of love, a marriage of white and red
Despite what a casual gardener may have said
They’ll share everything, including their scents
For long after the Spring’s green growth fades
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