Three little rose bud's that grew from a stem of thorns,
thriving from the earth of sweetness, the summer breeze
that tipped each bud into a curtsy, to the warmth of the sun,
as the gentle raindrops softly kissed each bud, so like a mother's love.
In the tragic moments of my hurt, I chose to dwell
within the fantasy of my enchanted world, and as I walked
within the enchantment of time, I could see the softness
of marshmallow clouds, I spoke to the enormous shadow
Life is not the same without him, but I have to go on anyway,
and when I look toward heaven, I believe what I am seeing will be.
I see rainbows up above, moonbeams filled with love,
The sky so full of doves, and Jerry with the laughing eyes.