The Thornless Wonder

In hushed greenhouses, a marvel grows, A pilgrimage for those who know: A rose unmarred by nature's thorns, Its beauty is pure, as morning dawns. I dreamed of its stem, a silken cord, Coiled gently around my hands, unexplored. My garden once bristled with spiky guards, Till obsession smoothed those prickly shards. From root to tip, I bred them bare, Strength redefined in petals fair. If thorns meant power, then power's changed, In vulnerability, strength rearranged. This thornless bloom, a rare delight, Wields beauty like a beacon bright. Its petals unfurl, a gentle shield, Revealing truths long concealed. When touched, it stands, unharmed and tall, A flower-warrior, breaking thrall From old beliefs of strength through pain, Its peaceful stance is a greater gain. In dreams, I graft this wonder's stem To roses in my garden's hem. Together we walk through skeptics' sneers, Our smoothness calms ancient fears. Behold the power of gentleness, In this rose's thornless dress. A testament to nature's art: True strength blooms from an open heart.