THE SPANISH ROSE
I encountered her on a windswept plateau,
amidst the gently falling rain. The Sun had
caressed her face for days, but now hid himself
in a jealous rage.
Her beauty was unrivaled, with skin like
precious gold, her lips soft and tender,
like the petals of a rose.
Magnificent, in splendor, softly swaying in the
wind, it was then that I knew, I had to make
her mine.
Sensual and alluring, were her dark mysterious
eyes, as the Sun slowly melted into the darkness
of the night.
Now among the rocks, nestled within the garden
In my mind, grows a single rose, that fills my days
with her love.
Her name is secret, for she is as magnificent as she is
beautiful. Let’s just say, that she is the magic within
my heart, the one and only, Spanish Rose.
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