Friday, August 28, 2009

Bold


My love, you are a rose that I saw this summer,

Basking in the sun, and preparing to burst out.
By tender beauty wrapped 'round, softer than velvet,
Your color brash and bold, your principles to shout.
No space-filler you, no one out of the dozen,
No timid bloom blending to the background of green.
You pronounce yourself present at such time you choose
Proclaiming truth with confidence, to be seen
By those with eyes to see, no apology.
Too often we've been soothed by weak timidity
And had our boldness blunted, our color bleached out.
But God calls not the rose to shrink, a timid violet
Or ponder long on lists of troubles that beset,
But show his glorious color in all things round about.

3 comments:

kingdavid said...

When did Shakespeare start posting on this site?

Night Writer said...

You mean Steve Shakespeare, the guy with the flower shop?

W.B. Picklesworth said...

No, I think he's referring to Trip Shakespeare. They were bound to get together for a reunion tour one of these days.

(Thanks KD)