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Thursday, August 29, 2013

Woven with Love

The budding rose now into a beautiful bloom
She gathers its beauty is full grown
So tender the petals that it seems so true
that freshness adorns a pink rose..

Follow its scent, some say its heaven bent
Beauty and rose, beauty and blooms
O heavenly thy name, amongst all that grows

She lifts her tender one onto her hands
and the breath that adorns gives rise to a peck
a kiss for the young 'un, a peck on the nose
and it wriggles somewhat and it glows

The pride of a child in the hands of a loved one
Would it ever matter that its snowing somewhere
Far in the mountains where its chilly out there
For the warmth of a child in hand completes every care

The pinkest rose of the pinkest rose
Would you smile at her there
She is whisking away in her carriage so fair
For far into the night a young man will she meet there
In a thousand years from now
It would be a fairy tale affair.

For unto a man is a woman given to bear his child and bring forth a kin and unto
that kin are the woven love that ties and binds the namesake of her man - shobana

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