Rose as Fire
In the bright summer sun is a scarlet flame;
it dances a Gypsy ballet.
Warmed by the summer sun, it is kissed by a
gentle breeze.
Scarlet perfumes hanging in its aura; dazzling
reds beckon a touch.
The rose has no voice, yet it speaks; it whispers
of love and burning desire.
It sings gentle songs to the heart.
In the bright summer sun is a scarlet flame;
it dances a Gypsy ballet.
Warmed by the summer sun, it is kissed by a
gentle breeze.
Scarlet perfumes hanging in its aura; dazzling
reds beckon a touch.
The rose has no voice, yet it speaks; it whispers
of love and burning desire.
It sings gentle songs to the heart.
