On My Daily Walk #236 - The Rose

A single rose left in the village graveyard, surrounded by melting snow.

 

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When the night has been too lonely,

And the road has been too long;

And you think that love is only

For the lucky and the strong.

Just remember in the winter

Far beneath the bitter snows,

Lies the seed, that with the sun's love

In the spring, becomes the rose.

 

Done