In a garden bathed in morning's glow,
There blooms a rose, with petals red,
A symbol of love that hearts bestow,
With whispers of words left unsaid.
Its fragrance weaves through the gentle air,
A tapestry of memories and dreams,
Each petal a story, a silent prayer,
In the sunlight's soft, golden beams.
Crimson blush on delicate cheeks,
A silent song in the twilight's embrace,
In its presence, the soul speaks,
Finding beauty in time and space.
The red rose stands with regal grace,
A sentinel of passion and fire,
Its thorns a reminder in life's race,
Of love's depth and its fierce desire.
Seasons change, and petals fall,
Yet the essence of the rose remains,
In hearts where love's sweet echoes call,
Binding souls with invisible chains.
So let the red rose bloom and fade,
A timeless dance in nature's art,
For in its beauty, memories are made,
Etched forever in the human heart.