In a garden where whispers of the wind reside,
Roses bloom in twilight’s tender embrace.
Their petals, soft as the morning tide,
Unfold gently with an elegant grace.

Each hue a note in nature’s song,
Crimson passion and ivory dreams.
In their beauty, we long to belong,
Captivated by the moonlight’s beams.

Thorns protect their fragile hearts,
Secrets hidden in their fragrant core.
As twilight fades and night departs,
The roses’ tale becomes folklore.

Under the stars, they sway and dance,
A symphony in the evening’s glow.
In their presence, we find a trance,
In the garden where roses grow.