Fair is the bouquet which wakens my heartwith scents fragrant of ardor and allure
For it kindles the flame of mine embers dark
that the scent of her passions are pure
Garlands thus sweet of her wine and red rose
so honeyed are my words by her flower
Might into these arms they court her repose
and on her mine adore I could shower
Like a summer’s rain stirs a garden’s scent
I am embraced by petals thus warmed
Where the caress of her flora’s fragrance
does arouse inhibitions of mine own
Hence these gardens of amour I thus aspire
to hold and be held by the scent of a
Flower
© Charles Coakley Simpson 2011
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