AMONG a garden of lovely
colors
God chose a rose of purest
white
Never seeking its own it
was meant to grow and bless
the earth
Because of man’s crushing
blow, into the ground
thorns pressed the rose
in darkness white petals bled
Heaven’s garden looked down
and weptfor fear their
precious rose would forever
rest, bruised and forgotten
But to their wonder new
breath is given
the stone upon its tomb
removed
The scent of the rose from
dust arose returning to
heaven’s garden
The Dear Rose of Sharon!
