Roses

THEIR FACES ARE SO PRETTY,
FRAGRANCE IS ALL SUCH A BEAUTY;

THE ENSEMBLE IS SO COLOURED,
THE REST OF THE WORLD SEEMS SO BLURRED;

THEY ARE SO ALIVE,
AS FRESH AS HONEY IN A BEE HIVE;


THEIR SIGHT LEAVES ME CATALEPTIC,
REST EVERYTHING IS SO HERETIC;


THEIR PRESENCE IS NOT FAIR,
THEY ARE STEALING MY SHARE OF AIR;


NO MORE CAN I LOOK AT THEM,
SMILING FACE OF A UGLY HEATHEN;


ENCHANTING IS THE UGLINESS IT POSSESSES,
A BOUQUET OF MOTLEY COLOURED ROSES.