Roberta's Blog (1)

The rose, and its petals ranging from pink to red are smiling on an undefined path. Smiling, because they have heard of your condition. And they would like to help and to give you an hand. But how? They are made of only petals, and they have no fingers. See, you cannot call Nature cruel. If only it could help. But you have wasted it and now you call it cruel? You have tried to turn petals into iron and dew into oil. Try as you may, this is an impossible task and you had to give up. But wou… Continue