From afar these blossoms
looked like any other ones
but when she drew near
she noticed one rose
standing tall
above the others.
She felt it to be a special one
since it was the color of snow.
Its petals came to a sharp point
as if a dagger
but looked too delicate
to hurt a soul.

She kneeled down
before the rose
to pluck it from
the homely earth
so she could take him with her
love him and protect him
but as her fingers brushed his stem
she learned that her perfect little bud
wasn't as faultless as she thought
but had a blemish
which could not be ignored
The Thorn!
As he pricked her;
her blood a flowing river
streamed out of her wound
and onto the ground.

It was but one fault
she overlooked
so small she thought
to make any difference;
the bud was too delicate
to bring more harm
the color so pure
to deceive her
but when she brought it to her lips
the once tall flower
now lay limp
within her hands
just as she showed him
all that was in her heart
her love for all his beauty.

As she turned her head to cry
she spied a bloom
dressed so simply
in its colors
that made her not see him before.
His stalk did not stand tall
as the rose did
with a pompous attitude
but he did with pride
knowing he could never be
like the rose.
His petals were not perfect
but they did shine
when she walked towards him.

The clouds broke
and a ray of light
glistened down upon him.
When she bent towards him
and looked within his bud
she found his need
to be cared for.
When she touched his stem
no thorn did prick.

Years later
you still can see
the once helpless bud
upon her windowsill
growing into a wondrous bloom.