Sweet baby roses
taken from bloom
took root from the soil
but blossomed too soon

The bees came a’buzzing
way before due
and drained all of the precious
life out of you

The spring was cut short
too damaged to grow
your remains were frozen
and lost in the snow

Oh, how the oaks ache for you
as though they weren’t told
that you won’t stand by them
as they age and grow old

The clouds shed their tears
they clear up the frost
trying to recover the beauty
of the spring that was lost

Maybe next season
the roots will anew
and give life to the roses
that are long overdue