• In the Storm
    Stands the White rose
    tumultuous waves
    of destruction abound her

    Yet tall is the white rose
    strong in the face
    of the sensed doom around her
    and she does not bow down

    Pure is the white
    In the Compost earth
    growing eternal strength
    in the night that so hurt

    I see not the white rose
    She is so far away
    But I long protect her
    But only the words I say

    So send her my word
    And my poets heart
    To help her when
    there is no hope to see her through

    Be strong little flower
    Your heart will guide true
    And as long as you want
    I will always talk to you