The Momma Clan

In a world ablaze with colors bright,

A man’s heart was captivated one night,

By a girl, a vision, a blooming rose,

Whose beauty pierced him, as passion arose.

Like a garden adorned with petals fair,

Her essence exuded a celestial flair,

And he, a humble gardener, beseeched the role,

To tend to her heart, his only goal.

He loved her, oh, like a desert craves rain,

His soul drenched in her love, an exquisite pain,

For she was a rose, adorned with grace,

But her thorns embraced his heart’s embrace.

He watered her with love, each droplet true,

Her smile bloomed, like morning’s dew,

Yet with each tender touch, he would bleed,

For her thorns, a reminder of love’s decree.

A slave he became to a thousand thorns,

For the depth of his love, his heart mourns,

He embraced the pain, endured the strife,

For her love, the sweetest, was his life.

Her presence a balm, a healing bower,

He cherished the moments, each stolen hour,

Through every tear shed, every wounded plea,

He yearned for her love, eternally.

In his garden of devotion, he toiled and cared,

For a love so rare, for a soul so bared,

He nurtured her spirit, cherished her scent,

Knowing the journey, a thorny descent.

For love, dear friend, is a delicate art,

A dance of joy and pain, entwined from the start,

And this man, so ardent, his heart intertwined,

With the girl he loved, his rose entwined.

So let us learn from this tale of love’s plight,

To tend to our gardens, with hearts alight,

Embrace the thorns, let love’s beauty bloom,

And find solace in a love that consumes.

–Noah Daniell Abner