"My dearest love," said he,
"I have a perfect Rose for thee."
She, holding it from above,
so white and pure as a dove.
Said, "dear one that's a nice lot,
but did you remember Forget Me Nots?
If a flower should be mine,
I'd rather not have a clinging vine.
Daisies are true,
but flimsy as you..
Lilies are grand
but not long on hand.
Gardenias are a sweet bunch
but do brown at the touch.
Poppies are free
but can't always be.
Roses, while rare, few,
and blessed by the dew
Are horney and thorny
as love from you.
Unless these posies are already bought,
I'd rather have bouquets of
                 Forget Me Nots."

        

Kay Ekwall ©