by
Carl F. Willson
April 1,2006
As we make our journey in life we sometimes have thorns that get in our way kind of like that of a gorgeous rose. After you bypass the thorns we realize the beauty and gaze upon all the miracles we see around our roses. We may have to take a detour and drive down a narrow single land dirt road. To get to where we go in life. We see our roses shining from a distance.
Seeing the glimmer of beauty from a far keeps our heart rejoicing to what is to be down the road of life. As we continue we have to deal with the chuck holes we have in life Perhaps we breakdown due to loss of family or friends. We pick ourselves up and go on and rejoice at what life has to offer us. Even when we think our life has been a bundle of lemons. We regain our joys and see that precious rose at the end of the narrow road. We go on even laughing at all troubles that we come upon.
Our work has has busy our family is under stress over daily life. as we pursue what our dreams are we became well versed in the hard knocks of life . As we encourage our friends and help them to go down that precious road with the roses of life. Our journey is nearing after yrs of endurance. Laughter sorrow everything we have come upon. Yet we smile and cherish what we been able to bring to those we have touched in our precious life's.
The roses in the road of life has brought us more then we dreamed showing everything is attainable if we track down the road cautiously.... enjoy your roses of life and pass the roses.
By Alan Shapiro
Love flower of the middle-aged,
The interanimating pain
And beauty in the way the stalk
Bends under the unexpected weight
Of the still uncrumpling gaudy tissue
Of the newest blossom
while
the lower blossoms like a ghostly
time lapse in reverse appear
to shrivel into themselves and turn
away forlorn before they fall,
the way the snapshot fell from its sleeve
into her lap,
and there she was,
my new love with her old love years
before beside a lake with blue
hills in the distance rolling down
to bluer water, and there they were,
the lovers, naked, hand in hand,
both smiling back
at me a smile
of joy so new, so mischievous
you couldn't look at it and not
believe no lovers ever gave
themselves so freely to each other.
The flower bends under the blossom's
weight; it trembles, bending
it almost
seems
to hold it up, as if
to hold it there forever, its one
and only darling, honey child,
how did I ever live without you?
How could I ever let you go?
