I received a gift today,

They really were a prize.

I was walking through the countryside,

When, much to my surprise.

I saw them on a hillside,

At first glance thought "A weed."

I continued on the pathway,

Just to see where it would lead.

In amongst the sand and grass,

And rocks that nestled there.

Hidden from the normal view,

I gazed at them with care.

Four roses showed themselves to me,

A very pleasing sight.

The first one was so beautiful,

Its petals were all white.

Slightly behind and to the left,

My gaze was being led.

Another rose... a differant hue,

This one was all red.

I spied another to the right,

I was a lucky fellow.

To see the beauty I beheld,

Another... this one yellow.

A fourth one nestled right behind,

The three... but still peeked through.

I looked at it with reverance,

And noticed it was blue.

I wondered "Should I pick them?"

"And bring them back to you?"

So you could see what I have seen,

And know their beauty too.

I decided not to,

As I looked at them today.

The glorious sight of beauty,

Would surely fade away.

I thought of how to share these,

In quite a differant way.

And so I bring this poem to you,

Of what I saw today.

The white rose is the pureness,

Not of me... but them.

Their value picked could never match,

Pure beauty on a stem.

The red rose is the love I felt,

When I saw them today.

Or maybe twas the anger,

If I'd taken them away.

The yellow rose was caution,

That's what made me choose.

To let the roses live there in,

This patch of different hues.

The blue rose was the sadness felt,

As I left them behind.

"But tis okay" I thought outloud,

For even those who're blind.

Would sense the beauty that I saw,

This place was heaven sent.

Twas not for me to disregard,

The hope that this place meant.

And so I share with you today,

This hard reality.

Would you have picked them for a friend?

If so... then don't for me.

~Bruce Parsons~