My Love's a Flower

[BillW]

My love's a flower grown with thorns that prick me, heaven knows
But if I'd trim her thorns away, she wouldn't be a rose.
Her petals would be fragrant still, retaining all their beauty
But only for appearance sake, and from a sense of duty.
Our conflicts compliment our joys. They both proceed together
And go by turns from day to day like fair and stormy weather.
The flashing eye and cutting words are sparks of love, not sin:
Whenever all is said and done, it's better out than in.
Can light exist without the dark? Or heat without the cold ?
The fond caress and stinking spanks are brothers, truth be told.
A storm is nature dealing with a need for resolution
Thundering and lightning bringing conflict to conclusion
In a flood of cleansing tears, refreshing all creation --
Making all things new again in joyous celebration :
Coinciding opposites that Instaurate the blighted
Setting matters right again -- renewed and reunited.

Kindly note this does not reflect what I think the whole business is about. But it does point to one element in it. FWIW then.

[Olivia]

Beautiful!

[Firmand]

And perceptive. Superb!