Dawn love and dusk lust
what mornings give to evenings make,
that roses reside on the river\'s bank.
Away from reach, too far to grasp-
eluding those from water\'s edge
and lovelier by lunar touch;
and rosier by summer sun.
The romanticist, by botany,
would quest for it for lover\'s glee
should find himself soon in defeat
the charming rose, tricky to reap
So those flowers breathe their air
as something none dare ensnare-
what morning gave to give them growth
is a secret only the roses know.