O, my luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my Dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun!
O I will luve thee still, my Dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
I'm in the mood for love poems today because the winner of this season's first-rose-to-bloom race in my garden was the perfectly-formed, incredibly fragrant Mr. Lincoln, which popped open just this morning. I like white roses best, but this one is my own hunk o' burnin' love's favorite, so it will always have a place in our garden.
Hope everyone out there is having a beautiful weekend.