The Rose

.

Somewhere in the stillness
Of an ice cold, winter’s day
In a tiny drop of frozen earth
Where the snows seem swept away

It stands against the artic breeze
Pushing through the frozen ground
A single stem with a bright red rose
Thriving in this harsh surround

It has not been newly planted
Or anticipates the spring
For it is the dead of winter
To which this flower clings

Instead what makes this rose
Bloom to life as one
Is as simple as the love it has
For Mother Nature’s sun

Nature never faltering
Will shine its love exact
Steady in its purpose
To reflect those feelings back

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Filed under Abe Rossi, Love Poems

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