Friday 28 February 2014

Too Red.

Beauty in a seed, a bloom t'was  rare!
A rose like you doth stay, not awhile
Do you Red Rose?
Red as a beating raw heart, like mine 

Thorns sharp from winters last bite
Must you feel neath these?
Do you Red Rose ?
Red like a prick of thumb to your leaves.

A late bloom is she with a wild scent 
And warm curled petals so 
Don't you Red Rose?
Red with one sniff my cheeks a flow.

I shall not pick you though, Red Rose
For you are too red, too wildly scented 
Aren't you Red Rose? 
Are you ?
Red Rose? 
Or are you already dead Red Rose? 


For me, were you meant ? 

Wolf