Monday, September 8, 2008


As time goes by, the lovely gardener wrote this for his rose;

I won't know when to hold you
My love here, is just an art
We never know each other, really
And if we do so, nobody will ever care
My love is only to be taken, and not to be replied
That's what a gardener does.

Cause the world will never admit my love for you.
So, let them wonder,
What beauty lies in you

Now and then,
My faith is only here
To tell the world what true love is
And I won't care if nobody knows me
Cause all that I care, is you
My rose, My love