Dare I say that you are a rose,
With such beauty and so many thorns?
Is this poetry, or ‘tis it prose?
Your face, such beauty adorns.
Dare I say that you are a rose,
Who’s born in Spring,
And in Winter – dead a rose?
Angels get wings, when you a bell do ring.
Dare I say that you are a rose,
Whose roots in history are deep?
As a model, will you pose?
I love you so, that very much I weep.
No comments:
Post a Comment