The delicate perfection
Can be seen by all
As she walks alone
In the monastery halls.

She was only eighteen
When she fell in love
With a young man
Chosen from above.

They met quite by chance
It was love at first sight
It stirred his feelings
Caused quite a plight.

He was a man of God
What was he to do
His mind, all confused
With feelings, all so new.

He paced the floor for days
Then he was found dead
A white rose beside him
And a good-bye note on his bed.

Now Rose is so overcome
With hurt and unbelief
Tears streaming to no end
What is she to do with her grief?

I cannot live without him
I've made up my mind
He was the man for me
He was one of a kind.

The monks see her often now
In her long white gown
She looks for him still
While appearing all around.

There is a certain sadness
You can see in her blue eyes
She still has a loneliness
As she waits for his reply.

The monks pray for her soul
They see her where ever she goes
Now and then, they shed a tear
As they pray for *God's White Rose*.

Delilah M. (Dede) Haasİ
October 15, 2005
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