Breathes there a flower with petals so red
Of whom no man hath said:
This is a flower, a beautiful flower
Fit to adorn any bower
Boldly facing sun and shower
Lying serenely in its bed !
If such there be, then mark it close
It most surely won’t be a rose
Although it is pretty, scented and sweet
It won’t be for the eyes a treat.
And it will grow in a forsaken place
Seeking in loneliness, some solace
And though it lives – it will be in vain
As it will not erase any pain
Or spread a fragrance in the air
It’s life will be lonely, insipid and bare
[ with apologies to sir Walter Scott….]