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.

©1995 ~ Allison Chambers Coxsey


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