My Love

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.

One Response to “My Love”

  1. 1

    Would that more men would write such prose to their beloveds… very nice! Linda, Arizona

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