Rosalie She stands there in the garden where the work is never done Tending all her babies in the sun And I can see when she returns from sprinkling every one An angel in the brown eyes of the fair Rosalie The cardinals are chirping at the black cat on the ground Who glares at them and chatters at the sound But when she moves they call a truce to follow her around Circling in the orbit of the fair Rosalie Rosalie, like the rain upon the tree Rosalie, like the flower to the bee Rosalie, know you mean the world to me Wisteria, tomatoes, coriander, columbine The salad greens she planted in a line Bright scarlet runner beans, blue morning glories on the vine And all of them depending on the fair Rosalie Rosalie, like the rain upon the tree Rosalie, like the flower to the bee Rosalie, know you mean the world to me Know you mean the world to me © 2016 by Mark Kaufman