My Love

I’m always pleased to greet

My lovely rose so sweet,

She is fragrant as the flowers

Growing lustrous on the bowers,

And scented springtime heat.

—

Her kiss is precious dew

And tastes of springtime too.

Her arms are warm and caring,

Her heart is kind and sharing,

Her blemishes are few.

—

For she is tender, gentle,

In no wise temperamental;

But loving and forgiving;

Always ever living,

Above all transcendental.

—

She is My Love My Dear,

For her I know no peer,

I pine for her to be with me;

To hear her voice will always be

Music to my ear.

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