The Kiss Poem by Christine K. Trease

The newly kissed cheeks of the blood red roses waft in the fragrant breeze.
Though firmly planted in brown dirt beds they sway about with ease.
They bask in the sunlit fields of warmth while safely tucked away,
They dance about and chance to guild the lilies across the way.
They bat their pollen-dust lashes at the bees that happen by.
They revel in vainness and beauty, and they wink a tempting eye.
They beckon even the strongest of wills who chance along their way.
They have no choice but to revel in the life that they choose to portray.
They make you feel as though they pick the destiny of their fate,
yet they cannot choose to droop in thirst or stand up sky-reaching and straight.
They rely on a mortal's helping hand and God's great loving care.
They need a little regard and zeal to remain in this worldly sphere.
They whisper thoughts that the ruffled breezes blow into your ear.
They impel you to stop along life's path and tarry with them there.
They know that once you've stopped to look it's their chance to entice you to stay.
They know if they quickly work their magic, you'll get lost in their sweet bouquet.
They'll urge you to linger and smell their fragrance ever so sweet and dear.
But beware if you do, you might get lost in their pleasures and idle cheer.
Take heed, roses offer a tempting bargain, but the penny-worth not remiss is...
The snare of the blood-red roses, and their fatal hypnotic kiss.