My Gift to You, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


Rosa centifolia, Pierre-Joseph Redouté (1824)

My Gift to You, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

What shall be as my gift given to thee?
A symbol of who you are it should be.
Surely will not to be extempore,
Nor to appear to be given blithely.

Shoes are thin going to many a store.
With nary success will go to yet more.
Difficult finding what we both adore,
Must speak ever clearly words of amour.

Now after many thoughts I understand,
It is here in my nervous shaking hand,
While knees are knocking like a one man band,
Hoping you think it’s absolutely grand.

My gift, a tend’r pink rose of softest hue,
Every time I see one, I think of you!

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