The Rose

As lovely as the garden is I dare say I love
nothing but the viewing of it. For with great
toil did it spring forth and not by admiration
alone. Where there is the beauty of roses
one has known the thorns. And so it is that
I keep this distance, pausing only a moment
to admire the fruit of one’s labors, thankful
there are those whose love of the rose
surpasses mine.

jrw 7-14-94


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About jingeorgia

Searching high and low no matter where i go it always seems the same: shades of grey. Or, was that gray?
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8 Responses to The Rose

  1. Beth says:

    Very beautiful.  I also enjoyed the poem.

  2. Brent says:

    Very nice, both the rose pic and the prose.  Just nothing to compare with digging in the dirt, and imagine, when we come back from digging all around we find such things as roses, lillies, asters and endless, colorful life.  Right there before our very eyes.  Well, along with the fertilizer, the watering, the pruning, the dusting, and so forth (as you know).
    be well,b

  3. Lily says:

    nice flower

  4. Vaughn says:

    "Where there is the beauty of roses, one has known the thorns." Beautiful expressions, J: the words, flowers and pictures.

  5. Jorge says:

    This is a wonderful poem, at least the reading of it. As for the toil needed to produce it…. Be well,

  6. Rambling says:

    I love these…what a pleasure!  Good enough to eat!

  7. Stephen Craig says:

    Thank you for visiting the Painting Studio and for your  most kind comments.  The roses are a gift from God to feed the deer it seems. Smile!  Am glad you saw the roses before the deer had them for a topping on the cake. 
    <img src=""></img&gt;
    As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

  8. Jane says:

    Pretty, pretty. 

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