Roses

Steve Green


Budding roses come and gone, a callous world still carries on vainly trying to look beyond a pain that knows no soothing. Little flowers hid from sight, many colors dark and light are seized and swept into the night. Roses kept from blooming.
As self indulgence rules our land, some children just don't fit the plan and so we pluck them from God's hand. Is our destruction looming? Precious buds of God's design, grand a gift of love divine where earth and heaven intertwine, yet their rose is kept from blooming.
May we learn to hold as dear what God Himself has planted here. And may we make the choice in fear, lest we keep God's rose from blooming.
The joys this earth will never know, little smiles that never glow, lives left longing to unfold. It's a tragedy we're choosing. The sweetest gift that God could give, He made to grow, to love, to live. So help us Lord to let them live for they're roses meant for blooming. May we learn to hold as dear what God Himself has planted here. And may we make the choice in fear, lest we keep God's rose, we keep each precious rose. Lest we keep God's rose from blooming.


Autor(es): Fred MacKrell / Phil Naish