Golden Rose Poem by Garba Ado Ibrahim

Golden rose the dream of my generation,
The king the rich the weak and strong,
Hunting my dreams and my thoughts;
Are your golden pictures,
That stand with perfection,

I remember the first day i saw you,
Dancing in the breeze,
Of a beautiful morning,
On my way down the river,

It was then i was conscious,
Of your natural beauty,
A quick glance at your face,
I saw a billion and billion ton of beauty,
Radiating from your golden frame,
Like the sun smiling in the dewy morning,
Your unmistakable and powerful scent;
Filled the morning air with scent,
No imagination or mind,
Can welcome you,
Great the golden rose,
The queen of the flowers.