The Living Rose
A rose upon the vine too soon will fade;
no matter if the bloom is bleak or fair,
its petals drop, no matter what their shade
and lie forlornly in the garden there.
A rose is just a flower and no more.
Its blossom time of hours far too few;
once petals fade, there’s no one to restore
that graciousness and beauty back to you.
But when we fall in love, the blossom grows;
its perfume lasts forever, and we find
a bloom that doesn’t wither, heaven knows
it will be a thing of beauty in our mind.
If love’s a rose, what color would it be?
Love has no color, save serenity.
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