The Rose
Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you it's only seed.
It's the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream, afraid of waking
That never takes a chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul, afraid of dying'
That never learns to live
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed, that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose
Bette Midler
picture by Dianne Strube
3 comments:
Nice Rose! In your garden?
How's the new garage coming along?
The rose sits in our front yard in front of our big kitchen window and next to the deck.This has been the best year for my rose bush.It has done so poorly in the past that I was going to have it pulled out and replaced.Go figure!Like Jean's post awhile back when they were wondering about pulling the plug on a couple of bushes that weren't doing so hot.You just never know what the following two seasons will bring.The garage is coming along nicely.My next post will picture the progress done.
What a beautiful rose!!
I love your post Dianne
Sorry I haven't been in here enough
I love you! Love the picture!!
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