Safrano
Spanish maid of high degree
Lived in her patio.
Suitors she had, but none could touch
The maid’s pure heart of snow.
There came a gallant from the wars
Who’d vanquished all his foes;
He won her heart, and from her blush
Grew the Safrano Rose.
Pink Cherokee
tender, yearning mother-soul
Whose life had never known
The blessing of a baby’s heart
Beating against her own,
Found, rosy, smiling, at her door
A babe of mystery;
There bloomed the rose of mother love,
The rare Pink Cherokee.