Sunday 17 February 2013

The spider rose


The spider rose is only thorns,
around a sooty, blackened stem,
its heart contains six maggots which
consume whatever love they can.

A bunch of these is rare as gold,
and cost more than a man should pay –
I've pawned the house and sold your dog –
your valentine arrives today!

No words can say the thanks you owe,
no gift could recompense this act.
I win! You owe me ev'rything;
I love you most and that's a fact.

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