A Rose.

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Love is like a red rose, ever blooming as it grows. It smells like heaven, sweet and lush. It sounds like whispered words of joy. Ever growing from its soft petals to its thorny stem. Kissed by the morning dew. Ever …

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Time Goes By . . .

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Like a rose in the spring, my love starts to bloom . . . and time goes by. Like the reddest rose blooms fullest in the summer, my love is also in its fullest bloom . . . and time …

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