Sixty-five years, dear Margaret Rose,
A journey filled with highs and lows.
From flower child to wisdom's sage,
You've gracefully embraced each age.

Your garden blooms with vibrant hues,
A metaphor for life's good news.
Each petal tells a story true,
Of love and laughter, tried and new.

The vinyl records still spin 'round,
Their melodies, a nostalgic sound.
From Beatles tunes to disco's beat,
Your spirit dances, ever fleet.

So raise a glass of fine champagne,
To celebrate your life's refrain.
Sixty-five years, a song well sung,
Margaret Rose, forever young!