Thuris 07-27-07
Such elegance, such beauty, a flower a source of great delight,
her silky petals, her gentle green leaves, her long narrow stem, the thorns of unease.
To tend the rose by day, and protect it by night, such a flower may not exist without the thorn of it's protection.
The rose grew to a great beauty in the light of day, its protection always close at her side, but when the thorn was plucked from her side, the rose withered and died.
The spring rains came, the darkness became light the bud fought to stay within the stem, fear drew from within as the light drew the rose forth.
The bud blossomed to a beauty beyond compare, but with the light of day came forth the thorn once again grew it's protection always there for the beauty of the rose.
The fear ever remains of the day that the rose will be without the thorn, but fot this time the thorn is this roses only delight.
{eniad}T ~ September 2007