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The Tenderest of the Roses
This rose stands alone
In the garden
Like a ballerina waiting on cue
For the sun to rise
So she may dance and sing and bloom
In full glory
Her blossom fully exposed
Her shyness hidden underneath
Her season is short
She will soon weep with early morning dew
As her petals fade away
So tender
Her desire only to please
The garden will sorely miss this tender heart
The gardener even more
Note: Inspired by Cherl Dunns poem of similar title.
Copyright ©
Arthur Vaso
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