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.


Dedicated to Martha B. Carpenter
from James Herbert Henderson
November 13, 2002




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