A Rose

There are so many beautiful women
Who deserve more respect than given.
One sits before me now
Who presents a radiant beauty.
Her talk presents a need,
A need for love from another.
Yes, but where is she looking?
All the wrong places I say.
Can you find love in looks?
Sure, but not looks alone.
This is what I see her do,
Only to be hurt each time.
She then assumes it's her,
That her beauty is not sufficient,
But I testify differently.
She's more beautiful than she claims,
Much more beautiful indeed.
Her beauty is much more than physical,
Though believe me; it is truly there.
Yes, but her heart is a rose,
In which God has set his seed.
She seeks to grow from day to day
For what God has in store,
But little does she see,
I think I already know.
God has produced and will continue to produce
A lovely and beautiful rose.
Oh for God to place a rose
Such as the one before me
Into the vase of my life.
A rose knows not of its own beauty,
But I know of it just the same.
She is a rose whose stem
Is rooted deep in God.
The root will wilt away,
But God will always remain.
So the rose shall live on
If cared for in geniune love.

God make of me a vase
To hold a rose some day,
Be it the one before me or not.

I'm not yet at all a vase,
But I hope to be some day.
Make me to be strong enough
To withstand the bumps and cracks
And keep my rose from harm.
As a rose needs water,
Do not let my vase run dry.
Build me and mold me, oh God,
To one day contain a rose.

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