Winter grips its secrets keeping,
like the crocus nestled beneath the snow-
I keep inside what only I need to know.
Roses are only sleeping.
Spring welcomes the peace I am seeking,
new life breathing sweet fresh air,
dreams and so many hopes for us to share.
Roses are only sleeping.
Summer swathes us with comfort, no more weeping,
carefree, relaxed, time to take stock,
trying to make up for all things that were forgot.
Roses are only sleeping.
Autumn creeps, its mist looming
twilight dusk resting in confusion,
winter soon making its intrusion.
Roses are only sleeping.
Roses are only sleeping,
like the flower one day I'll bloom,
lifting my head above the gloom.
Winter grips still it's secrets keeping.
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