A bed of roses, elevating towards the suns golden glow gentle breeze whispers, stirring them briefly to and fro "Crimson Beauty" is all that her name says her to be she is the pride and joy of myself and my family. I sit gazing and admiring the deepness of the red in disbelief, I rub my eyes, It can't be!, I shake my head! holding my breath momentarily, I quickly move away watching in amazement, as a fairy comes out to play. A tiara rests on ebony tresses, which tumble to her dainty frame smiling shyly she says, "Hello, Rose Bud" is my name. Her golden tipped wings are moving gently in the breeze