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Blossoms of Beauty

The Rose and the Girl

By Prasanta MohantyPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
Blossoms of Beauty
Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

In nurseries of joy, where nature's craft unfurls,

There blooms a blossom, more pleasant than all others known,

Its petals delicate as murmurs, in tints of ruby and gold,

An image of adoration's zest, the sovereign upon affection's privileged position.

The rose, a brilliant gem, enhanced in fragrant clothing,

Its class unequaled, a dream to rouse,

From bud to full sprout, an excursion of elegance,

Each layer spreading out, uncovering excellence's hug.

However, might we venture to analyze this botanical show-stopper,

To the charming excellence of a young lady, in life's fantastic embroidery?

For she, as well, has an appeal unfathomable,

An ensemble of effortlessness, a fortune to cherish.

Her eyes, twin mirrors mirroring affection's sweet look,

A window to her spirit, where dreams and expectations burst,

Like the morning sun, projecting brilliant beams,

Her grin, a signal of satisfaction, illuminating life's labyrinth.

Her skin, a material kissed by the sun's delicate touch,

As fragile as a flower petal, it recounts stories much,

Her giggling, a tune that moves in the air,

Charming hearts, dissipating all despondency.

Similarly as the rose blossoms in a nursery tranquil,

She, as well, blooms, a dream seldom seen,

Her soul, a wildflower, untamed and free,

Unfurling her petals, embracing her fate.

The rose might blur, its magnificence transient as a moan,

Be that as it may, the young lady, in her substance, won't ever genuinely kick the bucket,

For her magnificence lives not in transitory youth,

However, in the profundities of her heart, in adoration's everlasting reality.

As seasons change and years tenderly unfurl,

The rose and the young lady, their accounts untold,

Their magnificence interlaced, always weaved,

In the embroidery of life, a heritage cherished.

So let us wonder about the rose's fragile sprout,

Furthermore, treasure the young lady, in her quality and her agony,

For in their excellence, we track down comfort and joy,

A demonstration of adoration's getting through may.

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About the Creator

Prasanta Mohanty

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