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| Roses |
| On the north shore grows a red, red rose, And on the south shore a white one grows. Each one growing straight and tall, But they can not cross the waterfall. Red faces south and sees him there, His strong sweet fragrance fills the air. He sees her petals of red so deep, That he can see them in his sleep. Between them the water rushes by, Soon they will wither, lay down and die. When leaves dry, their moisture is drawn to the sky, And left in clouds that are passing by. In the spring soft rain will begin to fall, Caressing the ground below the waterfall. Two rain drops soak down so deep, They awaken two seeds that have been asleep. By summer two bushes have grown straight and tall, Their branches entwined, down past the waterfall. Roses so fragrant, their aroma will fill your head, Petals of white, edged in the deepest red. |
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| music: The Rose |
