The Rose

A withered rose.

He picked up the withered rose,
that laid in the dirt.
He held it close to his heart.
and felt the hurt,
The thorns has pieced hands before.
that tried to hold it close.
Laying in the dark,
covered in the dirt,
God picked up,
a withered rose.

Blood feel from the forehead.
Where thorns pieced the skin.
Tears feel from His eyes.
For all men.
He saw in the dark,
all of the world's hurt.
He picked up a withered rose,
That fell in the dirt.
He held close to His heart.

A rose can hide

she never learned how to dream.
She only knows how to take,
whatever life will bring,
all of her life,
she has only tried to survive.
Never knowing what is a dream,
She never was a princess.
and she'll never be a queen,
no one knows that inside,
A rose can hide.
She only knows how to exist,
She has never lived ,
past what today is.
She just holds on tight for the ride,
In the night she has cried,
No one knows that inside,
a rose can hide.

She has never learned to dream.
On her hand is only a brass ring.
She doesn't know what love can mean,
because it's something she has never seen.
She has been stripped of her pride.
She has been swept away by life's tide.
She just holds on tight for the ride,
In the night she has cried,
No one knows that inside,
a rose can hide.

When you have found a rose

I wish it had been me you chose,
But how can a wildflower compare to a rose?
You held me for a moment so close,
And than you saw a beautiful rose.

I wish I had softer petals,
But I'm just a flower
that grows wild in the meadows,
My petals fall as the cold lonely wind blows,
Remember the meadows
where a wild flower grows.
You can't see a wildflower,
when you have found a rose.

Rose Path

Momma laid soft petals at my feet,
And whispered a prayer that mothers pray,
Soft as silk,
Covering her seeds like a warm quilt,
A rose paves my way.

On the cross a rose was laid,
With tears and blood the world was saved,
In that blood my heart was bathed,
There is a rose that will never wilt,
He coveres His seeds with petals of silk,

Roses are a gift from God,
They line the road where angels trod,
They are in God's hand ,
He holds them close,
For He planted each seed,
That grew a rose,

Roses are a gift God has gave,
With the petals a road is paved,
On the cross a rose was laid,
And with a rose the world is saved.

The thorn of the rose made the crown,
The silken petals made the King a gown,
There is a beautiful flower I've found.
The seed of the rose was planted by God,
The rose lines the path that angels trod.

Life of a Rose

The rose grows in beauty,
The thorns protect it from pain,
The rose grows in beauty,
But not without the rain,

The rose was planted with God's gentle care,
And it grew in beauty with the fresh spring air,
The petals open to the heart of the rose,
And there is the secret of our souls,

The rose is made of soft silk,
Protected by a thorn.
And as it starts to wilt,
A new rose is born.

But the memory will linger
That the rose was there,
And now it's in God's garden.
In a angel's care.

A rose will once again appear,
Growing more beautiful from an angel's tear,
Like the answer to the world's prayer.
A Rose always grows in beauty some where.

Inside there grows a rose

Some call her trash,
But some see her treasure,
You can see the tear on her lash,
life is not always a pleasure,
Some throw her away,
As if she were nothing at all,
But there is someone that picked her up,
After she was left to fall.

Some see the coal,
And may never know,
Underneath there is gold,
And the beauty of her soul,
Is lost to those,
Who's eyes are closed,

Like a flower that hasn't been stopped for,
Or a wish that never made it to a star,
She has love to offer,
that only shows,
To those who stop and look
, And hasn't judged the cover of her book,
For she still grows,
In side there is a rose

Death of a rose.

One petal at a time,
Fell from love's sweet vine,
Leaving thorns behind,
Ripped apart as the cold wind blows,
A broken heart is like the death of a rose.

The petals scatter far away,
The heart will shatter from the pain today,
Rain falls on the shadows as Father Time's bell tolls,
Sometimes a broken heart is like the death of a rose.

It started with first love,the first petal fell,
Than another love had cast it's spell,
But when love goes,
Sometime it's like the death of a rose.
Now the last petal fell,
From a rose that was faded and frail,
Sometime the heart aches more than it shows,
And a dying love can be like the death of a rose.

A Rose

God knows me as a flower,
That has grown in the rain.
God came in my dark hour,
and took away my pain.

I can't tell you why,
Somewhere past the sky,
My heart knows,
There is a garden that grows ,
a rose.

I believe in my heart,
that we all start,
and we all find parden.
In God's garden.

He lets me see through His eyes,
The sunrise,
and the bluest skies.

And in the pain I feel,
God hold me close,
And I a reminded,
of the rain
that will grow a rose.

In the rain shower,
I feel God's power,
I know that in that dark hour,

A flower grows.
from angel's tear,
And God's listening ear,
The sky will someday clear.

And in the pain I feel,
God hold me close,
And I a reminded,
of the rain that will grow a rose.

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