A beautiful rose by any other name
could never possibly smell as sweet,
as the budding stem that I claim
blossoming next to me.

 

Botanically seated here at my side
providing her beauty for all to see,
a source of glory & inner pride
creating the air I breathe.

 

Permeating the air for miles around
an enigmatic scent of a budding rose,
visions of love smell so profound
inhaled at the tip of my nose.

 

I soon grasp at loves thorny stem
beholding her beauty within my hand,
whose prickly pain I must condemn
lest I curse aloud again!

 

Though forevermore shall I forlorn
if tossed loves loss leaves me exposed,
for he who dares not grasp the thorn
should never crave the rose.