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Anita's Home Page

Text Box: The Rose
June 6, 2011

The rose, the fragrance so sweet,
The look, so unignorable and pretty. 
So unique, that enchanting blossom, 
 She is one out of many. 

The petals, all silky and smooth, 
The stem, so rough with thorns.
In the garden she sits, 
Day after day, night after night.
 
At night she hears the owlĄŻs calls,
During the day she listens to the chirping bluebird.
The butterflies are her servants,
And she herself is the queen.

The garden is her palace,
The garden gate is her drawbridge.
Other flowers are the villagers,
And the flowerpot is her throne