Two pink Prince de-Bulgarie roses, Frans Mortelmans (n.d))
Beautiful as Any Rose
This joyous month of June and here thou art,
The most beautiful of those before me.
Chivalry is my approach from the start,
As before I’ve been taken to my knee.
Your beauty excels beyond all others,
Yet thorny can thy disposition be,
Forcing some to invoking their druthers.
That will not however be true of me.
Study thee have I from both near and far,
As well as history and pedigree,
To avoid a fearful motive to spar,
For my wish is to hold you breathlessly.
With two hands I caress thee ev’r softly,
Looking upward, dreaming of us warmly.
Flowers and Mirror, Albert Fuller Graves (n.d.)
Stepping into the room it is soon felt
A sweetness supplied by the month of June
Triggering memories when rose is smelt
Rose under the nose could cause one to swoon
The rose has a fragrance as no other
Sure to relieve all your melancholy
An antidote to quell any anger
Empty heart quickly to be filled with glee
Soon June will give way to the summer heat
Soft fragrant flowers shall be first to go
The rose will now show to be in retreat
Some to be captured, their fragrance to stow
No one to see that perfect rose I took
Gently press this memory into my book
Auguste Toulmouche, Woman and Roses (1879)
The Rose and the Woman, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Before me is one of God’s creations.
Morning sun falls on this dainty cashmere.
Anchored by penetrating sensations,
Unable to move close because of fear.
Her tenderness is more worthy than mine,
By her regal stature she is the queen.
Her soft scent fills the nearby air sublime,
Without a doubt her beauty is pristine.
If possible it would be love for sure,
To protect from any harm comes her way.
No desire to overcome this allure,
So next to her I will forever stay.
As a rose I am grown to give pleasure,
With each lady that is my endeavor.