Stop and smell the roses;
Dare not to touch them.
The dagger like spines along each stem
Remind passersby that they serve one purpose:
A mother to love.
Not to be misused
For the wrong deed.

Indulge in fresh blackberries,
Their thorns quite small,
Are not much obstruction
To the harvest.
Their sweet savor offsets
the pricking on your fingers.

So stop to smell the roses,
If you wish to do so.
But remember their presence Is to be respected.
For what cause would you spill your blood
To pick one
Of their royal heads?
Their beauty is meant
To be left alone.