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A poem about the coming of winter.... |
| A heavy frost covered the lawn with a crystalline blanket this November morn. Against the fence in my back yard, a single pink rose remained upon its bush, glistening and sparkling in the early sunlight, holding onto its fragile petals, refusing to fragment and fall to join its peers dead upon the ground, now so wet and cold. A solitary soldier stubbornly holding its post, resisting the onslaught of cold weather, remaining the last bastion of summer, heroically fighting the unwinnable battle, not yet ready to submit to winter's sleep; determined to prolong the beauty and pleasure of summer's vestige a few more days a few more hours... Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |