The Rose And The Thistle Poem by Barry Reiter

The new sun's dawning rays alight, a red rose bud, her petals tight,
uncertain of what lays outside, her precious heart her petals hide.

Then carried upon a violent gust, a thistle seed the wind did thrust,
into the ground beside the rose, taking root, it too would grow.

The rose and thistle grew as one, and flourished in the summer sun,
the thorns of each extending when the other grew too close again.

Together locked in their embrace, the rose and thistle then would face,
many storms, as nature's might increased with the seasons' ceaseless flight.

An icy wind, a sudden frost, a snowfall on the pair was tossed,
enclosed in silent, dark despair, and thrust apart with every layer.

The warming sun, the melting snow, the new grass green in the meadow,
a rebirth then, of plant and trees; of hearts, and men brought to their knees.

The spring sun shone upon the ground, the red rose awoke – to her surprise found,
her companion was by spring reborn, as a yellow rose, without a thorn.

Now red and yellow blossoms bloom, despite the darkness and the gloom,
growing toward, and nourished on, a light much brighter than the sun.