ONE PERFECT ROSE
A single flow'r he sent
me, since we met.
All tenderly
his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with
scented dew still wet --
One perfect
rose.
I knew the language of
the floweret;
"My fragile
leaves," it said, "his heart enclose."
Love long has taken for
his amulet
One perfect
rose.
Why is it no one ever
sent me yet
One perfect
limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just
my luck to get
One perfect
rose.
(from Enough Rope,
1927) |