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Chrushed RosesBy Anne Margrethe Lund Crushed roses smell the best That's my comfort in times of test I was crushed both once and twice Third time - thought I could never ever rise.
Still I have my fragrance, though You can bring me wider so You can take me anywhere I may pierce the atmosphere.
With her fragrance of a rose With her passions, pains and woes Maybe you can use her story For God's purpose, to His glory.
In her summers she was struck Blades of beauty fell from luck Cut in pieces, squeezed for oil Dreams poured out there on the soil.
As a rose turned into incense She’s more hidden than before You don't know what plans and blessings hopes and dreams there are in store.
No one sees them without FAITH No one feels them without FIRE Only when your spirit burns will you feel how my heart yearns.
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