In the window of a florists’ shop
There stands a graceful Rose
Her beauty shines with glowing light
Her fragrance thrills the nose.
But on her stems there stands a thorn
To keep the world at bay
Because her fragile beauty
Could swiftly fade away.
In the middle of the lawn out back
There is a patch of gold
She stands in happy confidence
Of the place in life she holds
She shares a life of joyful glee
And when her time is gone
Her fluffy head takes to the wind
To land and be resown.
I’d rather be a Dandelion
With the joy in life she holds
To realize that in the end
Her children she did mold
To know that beauty drempt in dreams
Somehow just fails to thrive
But the beauty that we hold within
Will keep our dreams alive.
And I’d rather be a Dandelion
With the courage and strength I’ll need
To bear the sorrows I will meet
On my journey, and yet I seek
For the grace and beauty of the Rose
For her strength to stand alone
And pray to God that in the end,
Of both I am composed.