"Outside, My Father Grows Roses"
Outside, my father grows roses--
Simple enough to decorate our lawn
But not plain enough to help frame your face
By keeping your crashing locks behind your ear.
The busy rococo simply doesn’t fit
The truly beautiful,
But frustrates it with overstimulation.
A fresh tulip is far better suited
To adorn the bower of your sweet-mask
And draw attention to every detail,
Each so worthy of memorization.
I would recite your face in tulip silk,
If the during desert sun would allow.