A woman is like a rose.
She is beautiful to the eye of the beholder.
She smell sweet.
She nurtures her children.
And without them she is incomplete.
And when she is nurtured.
Nurtured with gentle words.
A gentle touch.
She is sweeter still.
For every blow,
For every pull,
A petal falls.
With a fowl word,
A crushing blow,
A petal must fall
Her Gardner leaves to attend to another rose.
When the Gardner returns she has changed.
Soon she withers.
But deep down she is dead.
She cannot bloom again until the sun rises.
She may change her color and even her size.
But inside she is not alive.
Written by Donna C. Ledesma
Copyright © 2011
All rights Reserved
This is for the woman all over the world. Woman who have been disfigured. Woman who have been murdered. Woman who have unfaithful men. Woman who have been mutilated so they don't feel the touch as it was meant to be. Woman who have been beaten to the point of insanity. Woman who were sexually abused. And for all the little girls in other countries who are rejected because of their gender. They have tied to potties and left to die. God said, "Woman is the weaker vessel. Love her as you love yourself." To do anything else is against gods will. Women were meant to keep man from being lonely. She was a gift. I'm not talking about the unfaithful or cruel woman. I'm talking about the innocent ones who trusted and loved with all their heart, only to find it torn apart.
Emerald Cut Aquamarine Ring with Diamonds in 14k White Gold -
