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They
placed a crown of thorns upon Christ's
head.
Were these thorns from a bush of roses
red?
Drops of blood flowed from
His brow,
Divinely saving
us, somehow.
Now
these thorns protect the rose,
Allowing it to grow in peaceful repose.
A red rose reminds us of
eternal life,
Void of
sin and earthly strife.
A
rose that only God unfolds:
Grant us patience when trouble enfolds.
A rose with velvet
petals so soft,
Challenges us of sin to live aloft.
A bouquet
of roses in heaven awaits,
Victorious garlands at the pearly
gates.
A rose is sweet but sweeter
then,
For those who
enter within.
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