In the Garden
Kneeling in my garden
working up the dirt that has harden.
I sat and admired my roses.
Many colors and shapes all in many poses.
I thought to myself what life would be as a rose.
I think this is how it goes.
I would be planted with other roses in rows.
My roots would grow deep and act like my toes.
I would grow strong.
And my stem would be long.
Sun would warm my face.
Beauty would leave its trace.
My petals would flourish in deep hues of red.
Velvet soft smooth flesh they would spread.
I would welcome the morning dew.
Every morning as if it were brand new.
How glorious it would be.
To be a beautiful rose
velvet rich and stunning in my pose.
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