|
I see the beauty of the rose, Its fragrance fills the air; But as I see your beauty, The rose does not compare. For when I see the white rose, Like a touch of paradise; It is only a reflection, Of the innocence in your eyes. And there within the pink rose, A softness does impart; Just like the kiss of morning dew, And the tenderness of your heart. I slowly turn the yellow rose, Gaze on it for awhile, And see the glittering brilliance, In the sunshine of your smile. And when I see the rose of red, Look deep inside the bloom; It holds a touch of tender love, Like a beautiful sweet perfume. I see the beauty of the rose, Its fragrance fills the air; I hear your laughter, see your face, And the rose does not compare. Allison Chambers Coxsey ©1995
|
