The Name Of The Rose - Poem by Douglas Scotney
A rose arose from the finest root
and bore a little flower
in the middle of the night and winter.
'What chance is that? ' was asked,
and as all had had a look in Isaiah,
everyone was sure,
her name had to be Maria the Pure.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
See 'The Finest Rose'
Comments about The Name Of The Rose by Douglas Scotney
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You