In morning's light, so soft and pure,
A yellow rose begins to bloom,
Its petals whispering allure,
A tender smile in nature's room.
Through golden rays, it lifts its face,
A beacon bright, of hope and cheer,
Its fragrance fills the quiet space,
Dispelling every doubt and fear.
And though it blooms for but a while,
Its fleeting beauty lingers still,
A yellow rose, a gentle smile,
A promise kept, through time's soft will.
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