The rose that lifts its lovely head
To smile at golden sunshine
And nod approval at the gay antics
Of a gentle summer breeze.
Has drawn life from a cold rain
That fell on a dreary stormy day
And has pushed its roots deeper in the dark earth
On a day when the wind blew harsh and bitter.
These years together, we’ve had our share of
Sunshine (warm) and breezes (gentle)
And there’ve been enough rains, cold winds
To drive our roots into the ground of faith.
So lift your head and smile
Not the smile of an orchid, wilting at a touch
Nor a daffodil bright and brief
But a rose blossoming over and over
Growing (then trimmed) and growing again
From spring to snow of winter, blossoming
With rich, fragrant flowers of caring
Petals of tenderness
Stem of strength
Perfume of joy.
Roses are my favorite, I suppose
And a rose lasts a long, long time.
Written for Jean Stephens on her birthday in about 1978