The rose stands in the garden bare
No petals on the ground, no perfume to be found.
Silver frost and sharp thorns adorn her now.
Cold and silent is the rain, Spring a long way off
Memories of long summer days, the heat of the sun
Soft dew on her face, the bees having fun.
Now the warmth has all gone, she stands naked and cold
Waiting patiently all winter, she slowly grows old.
She will not lose her beauty though time comes and goes
Each summer brings a miracle, a peaceful lovely rose…