A gift of pink and white
A rose, what a mistake
A yellow rose no, jealousy and creeping round
underneath the rocks like slimy vines; a rose
grown tall and strong with thorns that bind
One a briar one a flower yet
to seek the sun.
We might rather say pink buds with a white dove singing
blooming gardens while a broken wing
is never mended right, oh blushing rose
Of gifts from faithfulness,
I'll fix the wing.
A yellow rose no, jealousy and creeping round
underneath the rocks like slimy vines; a rose
grown tall and strong with thorns that bind
One a briar one a flower yet
to seek the sun.
We might rather say pink buds with a white dove singing
blooming gardens while a broken wing
is never mended right, oh blushing rose
Of gifts from faithfulness,
I'll fix the wing.
