The Last Lovely Rose Of The Fall (1 Viewer)

Her pink petals lay on the short grass beside the red brick garden wall
By the thorny mother that bore her the last lovely rose of the Fall
White butterflies flit in the garden in the warm sunshine of mid day
And the shrike thrush he pipes on a low branch in his cloak of light brown to gray,
The rose tree has lost her last and her finest daughter next year new roses she will bear
And the rose tree in her flowers does look lovely than her there is none quite so fair
And her flowers they must return to Nature and on Nature's bosom decay
And the rose tree herself sooner or later must return to Nature one day,
The dark willy wagtail he sits on the brick wall his long black tail he wags to and fro
For him 'tis a very good Season on butterflies fat he does grow
Each life form serves a purpose in Nature for one to live one has to die
And what comes from Nature goes back to Nature and the same goes for you and for I
The pink rose petals lay on the grass by their mother on this warm March day in the Fall
And of all of the flowers in the garden in bloom she was the fairest of all.