Tuesday, 24 April 2012

How she rose to a sweet mum.


The evil men do, drives afar angels and the good remains hard to find. To me every young mother has nothing but bravery, so be it and stronger I pray they mature. A rose is a rose, She is but the glorious sun at day and shines at night to tenderly bring up her heroes. She will always be a sweet scented rose not only in beauty but the touch of care she radiates. The apple, pear and the plum could never be a rose, she remains none but a perfect simple rose to her touched family.

If I have the chance I will send her a single flower, from the deeps of my pure heart where I could speak the language of a fragile leave flower. One perfect sweet scented therapeutic rose, for she deserves none but a rose. Look deep into your lovers soul and deny her not a rose, for you to be a butterfly, sweeping through with secured breeze of ecstasy, just to land on her rose. Embrace her love, become but one with her and call her an angel. Amen.