Every woman is waiting to be picked, a bud on
The bush who still needs to bloom, she lingers on
In pretty stasis, still unable to flourish entirely
Until she is loved.
A petal may reveal itself -but never much more- trying
To entice the gardener who will turn her from a
Baby bud to a rose in full bloom, singing songs of
Hope, faith and melancholy too, she seduces people
But not by lust, she’s merely trying to secure
The flowers all dream of the same thing each night:
To find and be happy with The One who is right,
That one shining Knight who will keep them safe
And hold them tight.
Every little rose waiting to flower is waiting to
Be romanced, yes Romance! The stuff that begins the
Sparks of life!
As a bud who is bursting to bloom, I beg of you:
Romance me, love me and let me loose! I plead to
Your kindness, let my love be released!