You gave me a special rose in my mind, with your
early morning call.
Your loving voice on the phone to rise and fall.
This beautiful crimson blossom, awoke at
Glistening drops of early morning dew, still
clinging to its petals
And to the sleeping gentle buds soon yearning to
Your sentiments were as pure, as the verdant
stem and leaf.
This sweet perfumed rose, with thorns in sheath;
Such unexpected beauty as a phone call as a
present to give;
Inside me, forever to grow and live.
The memory of the essence of love, the flower
that blooms is you.