Roses, a gift from me heart
to show in art I love ye.
Each bloom presents part of me
for nae te see, only thee.
A rose that shines purest white
brin' delight before thine eye.
Spake tae ye of love divine;
I nae define or deny.
A rose of red, crimson hue,
me passion's dew, I love ye,
in words that within this tryst,
ye ken me kiss, ye tease me.
The last rose the hue nae ken,
bud waits for when softest skin
shall touch me heart beneath thee,
ken I love ye, we are yin.
‘m cara ‘m Eos
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