I Love That Rose

I love that rose, far somewhere it grows.

My love be immortal, but to dust it all will turn, so she will

I will, they will, you will and all will.

Yet her after she leaves this essence,

The immortal essence of her presence.

Be kind she says, thrones to protect not to harm,

Beauty is a kind, sizes don’t mind,

At last dust they are & to dust they return.

I love that rose, far somewhere it grows.