I smelled the sweetest fragrance
Coming from the garden bed
But all I saw were weeds and thorns
Faded flowers limp and dead
The roots of bitterness had grown
To such a tremendous size
All around were weeds of hypocrisy
Ungratefulness and pride
But still, I smelled the fragrance
Like perfume in the air
Deep inside that garden
I knew a flower must be there
I asked the Lord to show me
As I got down on my knees
Immediately we went to work
Removing weeds, thorns, and debris
There stood in the garden
No longer hidden from one's view
A beautiful, precious, lovely rose
All covered with beads of dew
Jesus, the Rose of Sharon
Whispers so serene
If others are to see me
Then your garden must be clean