She dreamed a dream like a pretty red rose. She must have thought it up first She comes on like a dream, peaches and cream. She were diamonds in her smile, and colorful moment. She tasted life so, it took your breath away. Cause after all color is her and her lovely heart, She was and is a dream in the making , maybe more than a pretty rose or just another rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem