Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The rose

Busy bees chased the blossom chaste:
though they crawled on her clothes,
her petals unfolded and those held close.
Still ever faithful to the sun is the everpure rose.
Whether her hue is violet or rose,
whether she grows in freedom or rows,
ever to God in waves arose the love perfume
from the heart of the rose.

--Saiom Shriver