Tenderly it begins the first signs of love.
Then with freshness, flattery and infatuation, (and a few thorns,) it continues.
As time goes on the petals open wide, and give way. The fragrance is intoxicating. Love know no bounds.
Photo: The roses that grow out my windowsill. Happy 51 years of full grown love Mom and Dad. Thank you for showing me what it is all about.
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