Not Roses.

Love is not that which it is perceived to be
Not roses,
But the fragrance
Sometimes the bite of a thorn.
Thorns are not to be feared
But cherished as the difference
Which makes you you,
And me me.

copyright 1993, Unikorn Stardancer


PaganGrove	Communicate	Poetry
Druidry	Aotearoa	Magick