The Briar Rose caresses the fence
where a lover met his lady fair-
on the road just north of town
long before the rose grew there.
They lived and they loved for fifty-three years,
now she’s alone and blind.
Yet still she walks with her blackthorn staff
and knows exactly where to find
The spot where he declared his love,
where he told her he was to die-
Because of the Briar Rose you see
And she can too, in her mind’s eye.
She can smell the heavenly scent of the rose.
She’s comforted by its velvety touch.
She can almost hear the thorny spikes
And smiles, remembering old tiffs and such.
No matter the season, she knows the spot,
For he made sure his lady fair
Would always feels close within his arms
By the Briar Rose he planted there.
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