The Marigold and the Rose

A drop of dew fell sensually through
The open lips of a rose.
It cascaded down to a closing frown
Of night-time orange marigold.

The vivid flowers of red and gold
Were a fire blaze of poetry.
A beauty queen, so obviously seen,
And a simple flower of modesty.

One requires so much care,
The other grows just anywhere,
But living now in each other's shadow
They are a contrasting hymn of love.

At its feet the rose can see
A sea of marigold.
Up above in heaven's bud,
A fragrant bloom of joy.

But both are flowers in my heart,
I see no difference that God has made.
He made them equal, flowering now,
In joy, in beauty, never to fade.