If her walk be glory
Then gold be her street
If her smile be magic
Then her teeth glitter and glow
If her sleep be smoke
Then her walk an inferno, her walk yes
She is the rose of the years
If her beauty be a rose, then she never sheds
If her hair be nature, the amazon grows on her head
If the glory of God shines in her sleep
Her dreams are as bright as halo, incandescent brightness
She is the rose of the years
If she has walked for years, I be her home
If she has thirsted for decades, I be her gallon of water
If she has limped for centuries, then I be her staff
If she be a rose, then I plucked her
to keep her a rose of the years
