She was a Rose

More Beautiful than any

Poetry or Prose.

Her soft red Pedals are

Her Golden-Brown hair

So beautiful that I cannot

Help but Stare.

Her inspiring Beauty

Is in her Soul

Her free Spirit

Will Not be controlled.

Her Majestic Green leaves

Are her Outstretched Hands,

Her Sweet Complexity

I long to Understand.

By Her thorns

My Heart was Pricked
When I first heard that Song

Escape her Red Lips

I met a girl

She is a Rose

More Beautiful than any

Poetry or Prose.