Red the Rose
By Brett
Red, red, red the blood
Running down the rose.
Bouquets of candy- pink and white
In doilied mason jars repose.
Outside the hoary petals fall
Into the stony bottomed mere
And paint a picture on the lake,
Whitewashed by the dying year.
Sweet, divine and rapt’rous glee
A lilting dragon melody
My kind musician,
Take up, now, your instruments
And play a wondrous song for me.
So pipe a song about the fields
Or sunken roads within The Weald.
Thank you! O, my Valentine,
For the friendship that you gave to me.
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