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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2084800
A short poem about people and roses from my mother's childhood story.
A Rose by Any Other Name


A garden filled with a variety
of red, black, white, cream,
and yellow roses,
are all beautiful,
each possessing a fragrance,
all different yet the same.

Intermingled in a bouquet,
randomly arranged
in an earthenware vase,
the arrangement created
has become
a stunning piece of art.

Each colored rose is adorned
with prickly thorns, however;
if mishandled,
thorns will protect,
by causing pain
and drawing blood.

We are the roses
that can live
in multi-colored harmony,
with thorns never used,
as God intended for
His greatest art and masterpiece.




© Copyright 2016 Mari McKee (marim at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2084800