by Amanda McBroom
Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying
That never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong --
You just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lays the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose.
A Red Red Rose
by Robert Burns
O my Luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.
So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.