Eternal beauty, strength, and love...beguiling and sweet but full of thorns. Does the rose scorn? Does the rose know its beauty is coveted? Does the rose understand the nature of man? The rose is not without knowledge of the forlorn, protecting herself from being picked on to picked up, tooted and booted, uprooted. She escapes the worms and twists her roots and outstretch, bursting past the darkness. You'll find her between a rock and hard place or alone amongst a sea of crabgrass. Guided by the Son's light. No matter what she'll find her way. Hook or crook, hell or high water she grows. The rose, symbolizes love but do you don't love her? Appreciate not manipulate or else get stuck....shit outta luck. Look but don't touch, just smell me...smell me? Nose wide open, yearn then burn cause love loves no one but bleeding hearts never learn.Ella
Eternal beauty, strength, and love...beguiling and sweet but full of thorns. Does the rose scorn? Does the rose know its beauty is coveted? Does the rose understand the nature of man? The rose is not without knowledge of the forlorn, protecting herself from being picked on to picked up, tooted and booted, uprooted. She escapes the worms and twists her roots and outstretch, bursting past the darkness. You'll find her between a rock and hard place or alone amongst a sea of crabgrass. Guided by the Son's light. No matter what she'll find her way. Hook or crook, hell or high water she grows. The rose, symbolizes love but do you don't love her? Appreciate not manipulate or else get stuck....shit outta luck. Look but don't touch, just smell me...smell me? Nose wide open, yearn then burn cause love loves no one but bleeding hearts never learn.
Soldier's Story
Quietly...he sips aged Brandy and begins to clip a cigar tip. I watch as he inhaled the past once again and exhaled memories, with a puff characters came alive like phantoms unfurling. Ebony eyes pondering passersby with a distant gaze. Follow him down memory lane, if you're brave. Sips Brandy akin to skin, deep mahogany, strong spirit, and aged of life's fermentation. Seen days without air when America inhaled war and exhaled gun-smoke...a story told again and again and ever sobering. "To God be the glory, I'm still here", he simply says. Today, I sat still listening to my father reflect upon his days in "Nam" amid the countless prayers said in Saigon six ways from Sunday. These moments and the lessons therein never ceases to amaze. My eyes have never witnessed fallen friends join the ranks among fields of poppy, nor the pain of coming home to an ungrateful nation. No job Joes. War heroes drifting train stations by day and sleeping in shadow by night. It wasn't right. No amount of words can amend. Only a soldier can comprehend. Yet, with sincere thanks America gives tribute. I salute to the end our veterans and troops, as we uphold stories of strong spirit, aged of life's fermentation to be told this day again and again...ever sobering.
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