Thy prickly canes

Thy prickly canes!

Rose,
you have stems of beauty,
a fragrant blossom of love,
red garnished and velvet lipped.
Thou art a wonder of life,
and yet a thorny conundrum,
guarded by thy prickly canes,
all the while beckoning.
Your magic perfume consumes me,
thus its musky allure invites.
You have but to present yourself,
and so, to your occasion I respond,
for you, patulous pretty, my erotic heart,
rose.

©2012, Donald Harbour

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5 thoughts on “Thy prickly canes

  1. This is wonderful, Donald.
    Very ‘Romantic’ me would like to think the poem is not merely hypothetical and there is, indeed, a rose by another name.

    Like

  2. A thorny conundrum indeed. I think the prickly canes are necessary to protect the pretty rose, lest some unworthy swain choose to pluck her. Or is that just me anthropomorphizing?

    Like

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