Love is a blessing, ever warm and kind

Yet like the sweetest rose, is armed with thorns;

Resplendent in rich fragrance, hearts shall find

Pure beauty decked in frightful barbs that warn.

So as a rosebud, nurtured by sun and rain,

Love feeds on smiles and tears that freely flow;

Her hidden spines protect by threat of pain—

But gently held, no harm will she bestow.

From newborn bud unto a radiant bloom

From spring through summer until snow befalls,

Fair blossoms still must bow to mortal doom

For sharpest spikes cannot deter death’s call.

Though florets thrive until the summer’s gone,

So must they bide, until by love reborn.