A pretty bud it is first
With an urge to be a flower
As it prepares to burst
It gathers all it’s power
Then it blooms into beauty
A pretty rose it is now
And tends to do its duty
So it makes a vow
It would be a good pretty rose
And give a sweet scent
Which would distract one from his woes
On which to worry over he was meant
It would spread love and peace
And give a good, strong doze
To man, to free him from malice
It would be a good, pretty rose.
Tapasmi 