Thursday, September 12, 2019

Poem For A Thursday: Parker

One Perfect Rose

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
  All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet--
  One perfect rose.
I knew the language of the floweret;
  "My fragile leaves," it said, "his heart enclose."
Love long has taken for his amulet
  One perfect rose. 
Why is it no one ever sent me yet
  One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
  One perfect rose.

Well, I once threatened to do Dorothy Parker, and it turns out today's the day...

Jennifer has a Billy Collins poem this week.

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