When poets sing of love they use

The symbol of the rose

For this flower is the fairest

That in the garden grows.

 

A tiny bud will come to bloom

With tender, loving care

Until its petals open out

And perfume fills the air.

 

This little Rose, this tender bud

Is sheltered from all harm

And knows of love and tenderness

Within her parents’ arms.

 

Just like a flower she will grow

Responding to the light

That shines within her family

To everyone’s delight

 

In life, though rain and storms will come –

The lot of every flower –

May angels shield this perfect Rose

From any threatening shower.