Where only thorns once lived
Whole..Fragrant..anew
Quiet night and morning view
Things get rough,words forgotten
I do not own this garden
Although sometimes I wonder
How it could be if..
There was a you and me
And I often picture myself telling..
The words that come by three
I guess it's like riding a bicycle
You never totally forget how to love
Only worse is the fall
If you don't ride carefully
And then I remember..
You don't know about me.
Candie
"The Soul Of The Rose" by John William Waterhouse
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