As I walked through my garden one day
I enjoyed the beautiful sight
of row upon row of roses
and every one of them white.

The neighbors said "fantastic"
theyll surely win a prize
if not because theyre white
then surely for thier size.

the morning of the county fair
I thought of all my toil
of sunburned head and caloused hands
and hours spent in soil.

I cut a dozen of the best
and arranged them all just right
for best of show i got a ribbon
and was happy it was white.

Then winter came and winds blew cold
and snow flakes round me flew
I caught a cold and it grew worse
there was nothing I could do.

From my bed I watched spring dawn
and gazed through April showers
in dred I watched as mysterious vines
entwined about my flowers.

They grew among the thorn filled vines
until the two seemed one
I thought that they would hog the water
and block out all the sun.

But soon the buds began to show
on both vines old and new
they seemed to space themselves just right
as side by side they grew.

And then one night a fierce storm hit
and roared throughout the night
tearing trees up from the ground
so terribly strong its might.

When the morning finaly came
I dreaded to see the sight
afraid that the storm had caused the end of my roses of white.

Yet in my battered garden I saw
that this was not the case
the strength of the vines together
kept every bud in place.

July and August came and went
again the fair grew near
and yet the buds on the new vines
did not the blooms appear.

The morning of the fair I woke
to voices loud and gay
coming from my garden below
up to the place I lay.

"See how beautiful they are this year
in spite of the beating they took
Neighbor and friend wake from your sleep come to you window and look."

I arose from my bed and opened the window
oh what a magnificent sight
blooms of yellow , red and pink
were among my roses of white.

"The judges heard that you were ill
so they have come to you.
what an absolutely keen idea
youve won a ribbon, ITS BLUE."