Spring will be here, just not quite yet.
So hide in my petals, I will keep you warm;
Until dear Mother stops this storm.
So wait with me, dear child of snow.
And when warmth comes, it'll be your time to glow.
Yeah. I just. . .Fingers. Why do you type things when I'm looking at my cat, huh?
Anyways. I think you get the picture from the poem. Rose protecting the un-bloomed bud from the snow until Mother Nature brings spring along, when the rose will die and the bud will blossom in its place.
Yes I know they will both be dead by then, but let me enjoy this.