Rose

Each rose they say,

Has its own beauty.

But each rose they say,

Has the same grace of the next.

But, oh my dear, they have not meet,

The rose I was lucky to get.

The rose with the grace,

Matched by none.

The rose with the face,

That could only belong to an angel.

Oh no my dear,

They do not know,

The sweetest rose…

My sweet, sweet rose…

Rosalie.