I have found the finest roses bloom,
In the waning days of June.
Yellow gold, the most rare.
The color of heavenly angel’s hair.
Long stems swaying in the breeze,
Seem to say,” Pick me please.”
Her perfume is wafting in the air,
Should I take her? Do I dare?
This treasure we should not condemn,
For a few sharp thorns upon her stem,
So he who wants her should understand,
She should be held gently in his hand.
She really doesn’t ask for much,
A lovers kiss, a tender touch,
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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Beautiful write, just like the rose in the background. Excellent...mal
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Yellow roses are my favorite rose. the poem is lovely...
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A rosy, delightful read! Thank God we're not all judged by our thorns, if so...I'd never have been picked
...I was picked twice...the first time I was cut, and discarded...but before my bloom completely died I was picked up and held tenderly in my husbands gentle hands. Though he still gets pricked now and then, my thorns aren't quite as sharp as they once were
Sassy
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nice poem!!!
i meant
very nice indeed -
nice!!
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Hey Del
So this is what you're doing when you're out mending fences!
Well worth the ride, and the read!
Regards,
John
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"She should be held gently in his hand.
She really doesn’t ask for much,
A lovers kiss, a tender touch,"
this was simply lovely my dear.
I really enjoyed it.
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Breathtakingly Beautiful!!!
I love this special poem, and I believe these thoughtful and wise words of love should accompany every greeting card that arrives inside a special gift of roses to everyone, for all time!!! 
You are an angel... Write on, shine on, Poet (as they say here on AP) Peace, Cyn
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