Even the flowers wear armor.
They hide their sweetest nectar
deep inside the keep
of their castle,
Behind high walls
surrounded by moats
of thorns and ramparts
of bristles and thistles.
Tender they appear.
But tough they are.
Bending in fierce winds
they survive.
Pass the flowers not bullets.
Flowers are stronger.
They hurt no one.
Their scent perfumes a planet.
Their tender gift of beauty
stirs love and forgiveness.
Even flowers wear armor
to protect themselves.
annarino writes 