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Spring RoseBuried beneath the cold, damp snow lies a Rose stirring to unfold. Unseen to the naked eye, Unknown to the world passing by Is the silent stirring of a Rose story being written, yet still untold. Whispering, wanting to shout, Yearning to be freed The rose patiently waits for the warmth of Spring when, at last, the rose is free to be. The Sun will soon kiss her tightly closed bud enticing her to loosen her petals so bright, together, playing in unison Sun and Rose will become each others pure delight. Is there anything on this earth more beautiful or passionate than the promise of Spring and the release of beauty the warmth will bring? Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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