A Rose

If man could tell the beauty, of a rose.
Without the cunning senses, of his nose.
He would notice, first of all,
petals come and petals fall;
beauty comes from nothing, then it goes.

To enjoy the precious story, they could tell.
Of three long days that Jesus, spent in Hell.
You must first enjoy the feeling,
when He went, that He was kneeling;
the Grace of God, His Father, taught Him well.

The color is the center, of His heart.
He knew the test was coming, from the start.
Now, the devil tried to say,
You will suffer most today;
He didn't know that God was there, in part.

Then the devil made his move, to take command.
He tried his very best, to break the man.
But Dear Jesus put His trust,
and He found this part a must;
in the morning, He would see the promised land.

Then the devil lost his power, don't you see?
Tho the rulers of the darkness, danced in glee.
What they really didn't know,
was that God, who loved Him so;
Had entrusted Him with knowledge, and the Key.

So remember as you live, for me and mine.
You are letting Jesus die, upon the vine.
Give your love to Dad and Mother,
Trust in Jesus, and no other;
Then the beauty of the rose, will come in time.

The Honor of His death, is plain to say.
Every man will hear the trumpet, on his day.
If you live, as He has shown,
Grace from Jesus will be known;
But to seek and find the glory, you must pray.

The tree of life is hollow, as it grows.
The Blood of Jesus fills it, as it flows.
The Grace from God is pure,
You will find as you endure;
From the sin and shame of satan, He A-Rose.