The Glory of the Rose by Russell Cushman

I re mem ber love,
Like Gus in Lonesome Dove
clung to a river walk
and a picnic in his mind.
The flower of our youth
gave us an acorn of truth
that we know is truly hard to find.

Chorus: I re mem ber love,
can’t forget its hold,
Now some say I’m growin’ old.
But I remember love,
and pity those
Who have forgotten the glory of the rose.

A woman is a rose, an’
compelling beauty grows
within her smile as she
glories in her spring.
So relish in the moment
‘n let your passion foment.
Too bad it is such a fleeting thing.

Chorus: I re mem ber love,
can’t forget its hold,
willing arms as they’d unfold.
I remember love,
and pity those
Who have forgotten the glory of the rose.

The blossom starts to wither
An’ the nectar can turn bitter.
Her glory peaks in
the autumn of her life.
She no longer smiles or wants you,
frozen like a statue -
It stabs the heart like Blue Duck’s knife.

Chorus: Then I re mem ber love,
worth more to me than gold,
Perhaps the depth can never be told.
I remember love,
What a pity, those
Who’ve forgotten the glory of the rose.

Unlike Gus, I stuck it out-
It was no picnic, without a doubt.
Her thorns bled his ego
an’ he rode off one day.
A bee forgets his own stinger-
we could all point the finger.
Some say he threw his life
and hap pi ness away.

Chorus: But I re mem ber love,
can’t forget its hold,
I’ll never give in to growing old.
I remember love,
n’ have a double dose
burned in my soul, the Glory of the Rose!

The glory of the rose,
the glory of the rose.
The passion dies too soon.
But something deeper still arose,
And THAT’S the glory of the rose…
That’s the purpose of the rose…
The glory of the rose!

I re mem ber love…