my mother met my father
out where the saltbush grows
he spoke to her of fleeces
and gave her a red red rose
his roses grew in the garden
he tended round the homestead
as the grasses on the plains turned grey
the roses bloomed white and red
although I prefer native flowers
for roses I make an exception
red to recall my father
yellow for joy and celebration
to honour our golden wedding
my sister gave us a rose
by day it numbers the years gone by
by night how many to go