There were frosty roses, all damp with the frosty morning dew
Each one glistening, all glorious colors, here and there,
With frost just around the corner, soon there would be few,
Soon the snow would thwart them, but the bees didn't care.

They had their fill of nectar, hive's was hidden now,
But I could go on forever, smelling each and every one,
The red's, and pinks, and the gold, were special somehow.
This year is nearly over, the harvest was almost done.

I can remember the sweetness, of the daily morning's sweet aroma,
The pleasant odor of these beauties, drifting in the air,

Every now and then in my mind, I could see my Mama,
Watch the bees gathering nectar, and lightly touching roses everywhere.

Then when winter's over, the sun will peek from o`er the fence,
And all the roses will begin to flourish, and soon, you'll see
They'll be arrayed as crowns, upon the head of a prince,
Then once again, the bees gathering nectar, will on the roses be.

Copyright © Pearlie Duncan Walker
October 20, 1999

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