The Rose Eternal
The Rose EternalA Rose is a Rose no matter how hard the breeze blows
When the stem has ceased to grow and all the petals
have fallen
And its beauty is scattered with the wind
Then will it reform in heaven to be replaced on earth
again
Maybe not in the same soiled place, but always with
the exact subtle grace
Planting its gentleness in souls that will fade long
before the flower
Is it a wonder the rose is a metaphor of love in its
full array
For true love never dies, nor does a rose
They but take on a new blossom with the passing
of each ethereal day
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