Photo Credit:
Mel Schockner
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 West Texas Juniper - 1986 photo by Mel Schockner
God's Withered Rose
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I'm not a rose so withered my heart can no more ache; nor have I ceased to will to give though it's now my lot to take.
For time has done its number on my old and dying shell, but still inside this framework is a person. Can't you tell?
A person who once laughed and played in the sunshine of my youth, loved and had a family, raised them in the Truth.
The joys I shared in friendships, the sorrows shared in loss, I still desire to share again, though that avenue seems lost.
I'm imprisoned - could you visit me? Just let me know you see that despite my feeble, dying frame, it's still worthwhile to know me.
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