Shapely and curvaceous lips, <br />Protruding at intervals to each other, <br />Circling, entranced, around it's nectar eclipsed, <br />They protect from an unwanted interloper. <br /> <br />All gazes it easily captures, <br />Creating a lingering desire, a lust, for it instills cupidity, <br />In all those who deem themselves suitors, <br />And in those who anguish at their abject inferiority. <br /> <br />It's stem finds honor in holding it's majesty, <br />The head of state, whose presence commands attention, <br />Demands respect, at all times, but by jealousy, <br />Does not receive appreciation. <br /> <br />But two faults this beauty owes, <br />To it's thorns, to it's egotistical pose.<br /><br />Ciaran Quirke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/roses-ii/
