Wild Roses

She fears nothing


Music speaks a love song so sweetly,
So endlessly it is clear
So enchanting and yet so unsure.

A scene is drawn,
The emotion introduced-
A word highly spread,
Undoubtedly overused though
And misread

While true love waits
Fear creates a series of shortcomings
While an overbearing dress hides her face
And they say it’s too late
But she says its never too late

Only unmasked and unafraid will a heart of gold be weighed
And deeper still
A deeper will of pursuit and gentle confidence

Will the weary men believe it?
Her woven peace and modesty
Her cup of grace and dignity
Oh men of honor won’t you stand?
Won’t you know her fragile heart?
Won’t you take her serving hand?

Doubtless she sways
While the music plays
And they say its too late,
But she says it’s never too late.

Every woman at the core of who she is longs for romance. Every woman longs to be part of an adventure bigger than herself. She longs to be pursued, cherished, understood and protected. She longs to be loved. 

Every man at the core of who he is longs for romance. Every man longs for adventure. He longs to be seen, heard, respected, honored, and understood. He longs to protect, and provide. He longs to be loved.

If it wasn’t 1:00AM and my eyelids weren’t heavy curtains , I would continue writing about love in the likeness of wild roses. I could write circles around the concept of love and pursuit. I only just learned very recently that my own desire for love is nothing short of a gift from God. I only just learned that it’s okay (and desirable) for me to own the role of a gentle woman, in a society where she is mocked. I only just learned that love does indeed exist, and that romance is not so far out of reach.

No, I haven’t experienced that deep innermost connection with another human being just yet, but I am confident that I will know it before I depart. I plan to know it well, and share it well with every woman I meet.

If there is one thing I will always believe in, it is love.


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