Roses
Let’s remove one rose, two roses, there roses
Every rose wrapping you like a grape vine
And leave them on the bedside to repose
Until the moon is stripped by the sunshine.
A wind blow may dress you quite fine,
His touch is smooth, his breath closes
Around your collar and your waist line,
Unloose your arms, copy Venus’ pose.
But what is this? Two newborn roses
Bloom on your face and now they pine
Like twin suns, encircling your nose,
Tinted like two glasses of red wine!
More roses will show if we expose
And I claim they all will be mine
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