The Rose In The Churchyard Poem by Gerry Legister

Did you see the Roses that grew
and made changes to the church yard?
Inside the providence of Gods law
they painted the imprints of his word.

We learned to walk upon inspired petals,
having heavy feet to trample and crush,
the softest rose that grew betwixt nettles
in beautiful colors that are saintly precious.

When a Rose is given; we should appreciate
what it means, keeping with our dreams,
holding the embrace of something delicate,
in the treasured breathe of our hands.

They grow with wings like a tiny butterfly,
when the wind beat upon them from the wild,
sweeping aside leaves in broken piles of lily,
their crumbled state with nature collide.

For a rose shared brings essence to an Alter
and the gift of harmony lifts voices to sing,
and makes countless angels rejoice together
in the grounds where saints go marching.

Flowers touch more lives in greater depths,
the elegy of memory is a friend ever present,
maturing with our thoughts to higher heights
prettier when we are in a state of turbulent.

Roses brings our smile to change from solitude
and knows nothing about the joy or tears it brings,
or the supremacy that creates mysterious interlude
Grown among thorn bushes with flapped wings.