If I were to choose a flower for my love
A rose of perfect form would be my choice
A rain of roses from the sky above
Might express what I can’t yet voice.
I might well choose a daisy with no thorns
I might choose lush lipped tulip for design
But never would I send a flower forlorn
Should you reject this loving heart of mine.
But, no, I choose these roses for your bliss
For Blake wrote of a tiger not a dog;
Yet if I am made bloody by a kiss,
I shall be turned at once into a frog.
The rose with other names would still be sweet.
So, to you , with fragrance I entreat