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Robert L. Martin

Robert L. Martin

The Rose

The Rose
 
A rose in all its splendor
‘Tis a sight I shall remember
An ode to all God’s handiwork
Rising clear above the murk
 
Its sentinels come in many forms
Employing danger from its thorns
Beauty so fragile and oh so fresh
Bid jagged thorns to pierce the flesh
 
Lessons learned from nature’s wild
Beauty is like a new born child
Lusty eyes lurk from the fray
Nature’s sentries hold them at bay

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