if you promise me
a rose garden...
i will follow you
wherever you may go ...
you love the roses - so do i
i wish the sky would rain down roses,
as they rain from off the shaken bush
why will it not?
then all the valley would be pink and white
and soft to tread on
they would fall as light as feather,
smelling sweet; and it would be
like sleeping and like waking,
all at once!
~ George Eliot