Roses

I really like roses.
The way they smell and shine.
And do graceful poses.

The way their beauty stands afar.
In a land far away.
They way their thorns feel,like a dream one day.

Roses come in all shapes and sizes,just like humans do.
They bathe in the sunshine.
And shine through and through.

And if you pick one and put it in my hair.
It will look magical,very fair.
My personal favorites are red roses.

Because their meaning and vibrant color never decomposes.
When their petals close and bloom once again.
I could live that all over again.

Because their scent is like perfume.
With a hint of sunshine daze.
The way they look stunning,and their graceful ways.

And if I could change my name just one day.
I would change it so I can be a rose all the way.
I know that may sound silly.

But I love roses for the thrill.
I don’t care about their color.
And content is all I feel.

It sends a chill down my spine.
Anytime a petal falls down,so fine.
During summer,or spring days.

Roses all have their own ways.
The way the wind gently sways.
As their story replays and replays.

It sends you in a dreamy daze.
Roses grow,you count the days.
The way their stems grow and the wind sways.

The story of life continues and plays.
Flowers,the ultimate bouquet.
Roses,daisies pink and red.

On Valentine’s Day,you give them to loved ones.
And they accept with a smile.
Or maybe someone you wanted to confess for a while.

If I were given a rose surrounded by fireflies,I would be on the moon.
I would blush and laugh.
And I would feel swoon.

Roses growing in a mystical lagoon.
With moonlight on their petals.
Surrounded by nettles.

Red roses make me feel swoon.
And white ones give me peace.
Purple shows royalty.