My Little Rose Poem by Nisho Olme

I know a girl, a little rose,
That cries alone and no one knows,
She dies alone inside her room,
While I pray for my rose to bloom.
She doesn’t laugh and doesn’t smile,
My little rose, that’s not her style,
Instead she talks, she talks to me,
My Jamie Bug, Her Brother Bee.
She loves me still, I don’t know why,
And tells me so at each good-bye,
My tiny rose, when you were born,
God planted you without a thorn.
My lonely rose I hope you know,
That thunderstorms and feet of snow,
Will never keep us far apart,
‘Cause there’s no weather in my heart.