The Garden Rose

In the garden There grows a sesame rose. And upon the skies, Secretly the robin Flies with the crows. But with the whirs and whys, A subtle red ribbon Is complete with seven ties. Upon the week, Or a turning peek Does one grow And gentle does it compose. Within the garden A tie for your wool Does a plant Call for you, a fool. To wonder when, There is a rose To and then, Complete with prose.