How a Blue Rose Came To Be
Once upon a time many years ago
There was a sweet and lovely red, red Irish rose
That was plucked prematurely from the garden vine
A budding beauty taken in her prime
She was laid to rest upon the death of a lovers dream
Upon a chest of ebony where lie his would-be Queen
Lowered deep into the depths of the church yard cemetery
Her scarlet petals wilting in the summer breeze
Then the earth begin to fall like autumn leaves
Upon her petals and the chest of ebony
From above her tomb where stood the grieving groom
Weeping, weeping like a willow tree
Then the sky begin to disappear amid that mournful cry
As tears from above fell from that lovers eyes
And came to rest like dew drops on that Irish rose
As she disappeared beneath the earth
There in his grief below
In time he laid a stone of ivory upon her grave
Etched deeply with the promise he had made
To love his Irish Rose forever and a day
The years and all their seasons came and went
And a million lonely tears were cried and spent
Upon her grave where everyday he knelt and prayed
And dreamed of her until his dying day
The epigram has long since faded on the ivory stone
That still stands alone upon her grave
Where from the million tears of love he gave
A seemingly impossible blue, blue rose has grown
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