In the garden of love, a rose does bloom,
Its petals soft as a lover's whispered tune.
A symbol of beauty, of passion untold,
In its crimson hues, a story unfolds.

Each thorn a reminder of life's sharp sting,
Yet the rose itself, a symbol of everything
That is gentle and pure, a symbol of grace,
A poetry in motion, a delicate embrace.

In its fragrance, memories softly entwine,
Whispers of love that stand the test of time.
Oh, rose of the garden, so lovely and rare,
In your presence, all troubles seem to disappear.

So let us cherish this flower divine,
A symbol of love that will forever shine.
For in the heart of a rose, we find solace and peace,
A poetry of beauty that will never cease.