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She who survived through the blaze,
She who thrived in the barren,
She who is saffron in the grays,
She who has blossomed in the gale
You dare to call her flowers paper?
You dare to ask why she's covered herself in needles?
Then be ready to hear her answer, simple;
For she, bougainvillea, will condemn,
"Does that make the rose evil?
For I know no rose thout a thorn on its stem
For I know no knight
thout a sword to fight "
~ Feronia Grey
YOU ARE READING
Cottage Chronicles
PoetryLife's chronicles from love, sorrow, anger, guilt, shame, happiness buried in a poetic cipher. Would you like some words and wine, on wooden floorboards? ©️ Feronia Grey
