There is a valley of thorns
Of thistles and weeds
Where roses bloom in summer.
A perfect white blossom
Unblemished
Sleeps in tender arms -
With the knowledge of angels
Behind sealed eyelids.
Don't wake up, sweet Rachel
My rose.
The world is too small.
Yet in heaven resides
Your father who loves you
And carries you on strong wings
Until the day your petals close.
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