I roam alone like a drifting stream,
That floats along with vapours as they gleam;
When all at once I spy a cluster bright,
Of blooming roses, a mesmerising sight.
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the gentle breeze;
Continuous as the stars that shine at night,
The roses stretch in never-ending delight.
The waves beside them dance; but they outshine,
In a beauty that is truly so divine.
A host, of golden petals they display,
Fluttering and dancing, as if in a grand ballet.
The water\'s edge, adorned with radiant hues,
Reflecting their charm in shimmering blues;
A picture-perfect scene, a poet\'s treasure,
A sight to behold, a moment of pure pleasure.
For oft when on my settee I lie,
In vacant or brooding mood, I sigh;
The image of those roses comes to me,
Bringing solace and joy, setting my soul free.
For oft, when in a sombre state of mind,
The memory of those roses I find;
In blissful solitude, my heart does fill,
With the beauty of nature, a tranquil thrill.
So, though I roam, a lonely soul,
The memory of those roses makes me whole;
In my heart they bloom, forever to stay,
A source of inspiration along life\'s way.