All The Roses

Approaching The Cup

All the roses in all the gardens
In all the books you’ve never read,
Written by the poets, who,
Thankfully are dead,
Now flourish in my head.
The wisdom of these roses!
Content to grow and die,
Which pricked the lovers loving
Their centuries sliding by.
It won’t take so very long
To press their petals’ poses
In my lexicon of song.
Here, touch the pretty roses,
Just don’t linger long.