Gleaming out a chameleon bower,
Showering colors, of separate shower,
A blue rose, red rose, white rose light,
Eloquence, of a rose in sight.
While forming dew, on petals' new,
Run down to where the nettle grew.
Colors devouring, in passions bright,
Sensual variations, of its flight,
Tribute dower, of rose power,
This fantasy, for the hour.
And I touched it oh so tender,
In the gentlest, of surrender.
Whatever its goal, I lost control,
My surrender, of both heart and soul,
Showing its white and reds and blues,
These moods, of magic color hues.
The mystery, of the roses might,
The sensuous shocking lime rose light.
I placed it, in my ivory tower,
A rose encaged, with all its power,
To visit it, each lonely night,
This blue rose, red rose, white rose light.
I revel, in its magic glade
And pray this rose, should never fade.