Roaring Roses
In a wide valley near the lake,
Dark green grass looks real or fake.
Standing red roses rule over the land,
Their roars sound with prompt and grand.
Roses that roar, with fierce, velvet might,
Unleashing passion and emotions bloom bright.
Their roar is whisper, a gentle breeze,
That stirs the soul and brings us to our knees.
The roses are standing with prompt on the ground,
And the green grass is surrounding all around.
In every hue, from red to green to browns,
Red roaring roses are wearing crowns.
They rule over the grass as well as our heart,
Lion rules for his strength, they rule with art.
Their beauty is fierce, their beauty is bold,
Like a lion’s mane, their petals unfold.
Soft as whisper, yet loud as a cry,
Roaring roses, reaching for the sky.
For in their beauty, we find our own strength,
Roaring roses, a symbol of our inner length.
By: R. Naheed.
