Friday, May 9, 2014

My Prose is Like a Red Red Rose

Have you noticed how roses are alike and yet different? The roses growing in my garden continue to amaze me with their subtle differences. Initially, the most obvious difference is the reds as opposed to the pink blooms, but it goes beyond color. Each petal seems to have a personality of it's own. Taking a picture of one this morning, highlighted with the rain from the night prior caused me to draw the parallel between my prose and the rose, with all due respect to Robert Burns.

O my prose's like a red, red rose
That's like the others on the shelf;
O my prose's a new adventure
Even if I say so myself.

As different art thou, THE DRAGONEERS,
I've written another two:
Folks need to read them too:

Book One's from innocence to warrior,
Book Two's from warrior to leader:
Book Three the rocks melt like the sun,
And arrives the anticipated water.

If you're read my novels three
You know of what I speak,
There's more to the story than you've been told,
Susah's adventures are not for the meek.

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