Stop and smell the roses along the way, The flower garden seems so far away. It eludes us at every turn, Always at a distance, we yearn.
We chase the blooms with eager stride, Yet in our haste, they seem to hide. The quicker we seek, the further they sway, A constant pace keeps them at bay.
But if we pause, in calm embrace, And tread with grace, a measured pace, The blossoms near, no longer stray, Their beauty grows, they never fade away.
For in the journey, not the end, Life’s true delights and joys transcend. So stop and smell the roses near, In every step, the garden’s here.
