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Posted by MFish

A miniature Rose bush, was I,
With buds to open and please the eye.
When my flowers were no longer there,
I was planted outside with little flair,
To survive the Winter weather's cold.
Little attention was paid, I am told,
About the pruning of plants, not chose.
Now here I am; A blooming Rose.

Argh he said,
as he wiped off his chin
with the sleeve of his arm
and that's when it begin.

He was a motley type,
his face covered with hair.
Not very quick,
or I wasn't aware.

His eyes were dark blue,
I noticed his face,
he didn't belong here,
not of the human race.

He looked right at me,
that's when I saw,
the pinkish scar
underneath his jaw.
I thought I would ask him,
what the scar was about.
I opened my mouth wide,
but no words would come out.

I wanted to know about him.
Where did you come from?
But he turned his body,
and with a little sound,
was out the door,
and couldn't be found.

Standing by the campfire,
so many years ago.
Trying to stay warm,
when it began to snow.
The hiss of snowflakes
into the flaming fire.
The flickering shadows,
across the ground
so white with snow.
Smelling the smoke,
now on our clothes.
Banking the fire,
going to our tent,
into our sleeping bag,
trying to sleep
until dawn
of a Winter morn.

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