It started to bud, and then to blossom;

I thought that it could, be truly awesome.

But winter came, and with it frost;

and now it seems, forever lost.

Just like a rose.

The blossom's gone, the flower wilted;

and now I know, I have been jilted.

I tried to be warm, you got cold inside;

now love is lost, and so is my pride.

Like the plant, that bears the flower;

winter's come, I've lost the power;

to keep the rose.

Soon comes spring, a new season.

Will it bring, a new reason;

to try and grow, and start anew?

I wish that I, but only knew.

Now is the time, I must be brave.

Long in my heart, will I save;

The memory of a rose.

© Jim Bullen 1985