How many
times I’ve seen you there hiding in the green,
As the world walks by so busily and you remain unseen,
Yet tiny little rosebud, whose more beautiful than you?
Whether sun touches on your petals or early morning dew.
The sun reaches down to kiss you with it’s golden glow,
As you unfurl your delicate beauty like a crimson satin bow.
The blackbird in the pear tree in celebration sings,
And gives a prayer of thanks to the God of little things.
As do I.
As the world walks by so busily and you remain unseen,
Yet tiny little rosebud, whose more beautiful than you?
Whether sun touches on your petals or early morning dew.
The sun reaches down to kiss you with it’s golden glow,
As you unfurl your delicate beauty like a crimson satin bow.
The blackbird in the pear tree in celebration sings,
And gives a prayer of thanks to the God of little things.
As do I.
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