I, as a twig, placed upon healthy ground,
was then covered with good soil and sand.
Appearing as one 'dead', indeed profound
that some future day I'd beautify the land!

While covered with earth secure and warm,
no fears nor fret for some weeks to come.
As I patiently laid there, as one to be born,
to a bright new life,... yet feared by one.

Tis the weed that's born with trembling fear
as it's fragile life is considered but waste.
But as a 'ROSE', my life is indeed secure,
since by few am I of intolerable taste.

As I grow, I receive a gardener's best care,
while the poor weed is simply cut & burned.
Tis sad to see the poor weed tremble there,
as he fears rejection and mankind's spurn.

For weeks by the shivering weed I laid,
not much different from him indeed,
But once my grower distinction has made,
Tis "Welcome Rose" and "Good-bye weed!"

It's sad in losing a close familiar friend,
that grew abreast my very own side.
But worse than that, the fatal end,
of the life of one who desperately tried,

For all his worth to be his very best,
in blossom and in gorgeous bloom.
As by my side poor weed grew abreast
the one who sealed his certain doom.

A 'ROSE' indeed, in full glorious array,
with all my gleaming splendor shown.
Yet sad I am each long remorseful day,
for the horrible end of one I've known.

Who by my side through sun and rain,
and the fiercest weather's beaten test,
did not so much as groan nor complain,
but offered to me sweet comforting rest.

As shade he offered in hot summer sun,
and strength against stiff blowing wind.
My dear friend the weed will be the one,
of whose un-forgotten grave I'll send,

A fragrant bouquet composed of 'ME',
as a tribute to my dear faithful friend.