My Rose

Won't you come into my garden?
I would like my roses to meet you
~Richard B. Sheridan~

My rose was chosen, when just a bud.
Its beauty was plain so see.
That it came with thorns.....I noticed,
But that didn't matter to me.

Slowly my rosebud blossomed
So lovely that it took my breath.
I will cherish this rose, and love it
Until we are forced apart by death.

My rose is the centerpiece of my garden.
It has presented to me - some others;
Blossoms to fill my heart with love
And treasure them like no others.

When my roses shed their petals
And I see only thorns and leaves,
I visualize my flowers in bloom
During better times than these.

And so it is... when I am asked,
"What makes your flowers grow?"
I smile, and think of my roses
And answer, "Heaven only knows!"
~ Author Unknown ~