It rained last night and this morning the roses were covered in droplets. They looked very fragile and beautiful.
You love the roses - so do I.
I wish the sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bushes,
Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet and it would be
Like sleeping and yet waking all at once.