The bud of the rose
Blooms in the spring
A gentle caress
Lest the thorns prick and sting
Blood red petals
Make the bloom I hold
Filled with fiery passion
Displayed strong and bold
Velvet softness meets
My fingertip's brush
Excitement flows through me
With an unstoppable rush
Breath changes pace
Now shallow and fast
This first soft touch
Will not be the last.
Senses become alert
Eyes wide, aroma sweet
Fiery rush on skin
Passion made complete