Blood red Rose as scarlet as the sly morn, Thorns as sharp as daggers; the fairy’s tongue. Bleeding mist’s sap under dawn’s impish cloak, Climbing ivy towards sky’s golden coin.

Protected by her sharp knights, floral queen, Emerald leaves shine like waxy, brushed stars. Stiffened stems support the queen and her knights, Reaching to Heaven’s turbulent sky seas.

Radiant her court; filled with budding maids, Shaded tusks’ ivory, virginity. Her princesses clamber towards her lap, Bowing their pearly heads respectfully.

Occasionally buzzing striped servants,

Serve the majestic womb submissively, As giants regard her profound beauty.

Blood red Rose, as scarlet as the sly morn.