2 years ago. December 14, 2021 at 3:46 PM
Through winter frost and deep December gloom
It struggles through to brighten dismal days.
The winter rose is not a feeble bloom
But bears the scars of Mother Nature’s ways.
A yellow bud that in the spring is lost
Amongst the multitude of showy heads
Shines brighter though its petals tell the cost
Of shedding light on winter’s withered beds.
How many bundled folk will pass this way
So buried deep within their muddled lives
They never see the beauty on display?
A single rose, its head held high, survives.
Go dance amid the easy summer crowd
Or stand alone, a rose in winter, proud.
