You're The Thorn I Suck Without Any Pain Poem by Mark Heathcote

You're the thorn I suck without any pain
you're the cherry blossoms pink witchery
I hope we can be friends, I-won't-abstain
if I'm stung, I won't ask for liberty.

Aren't we two equal equable treasures?
Let us combine both our wealth, our livings.
You attract the bees, what countermeasures-
can we bake out of these sweet misgivings?

I've melted there is no foregoing thus he slew
storm the castle demolished the rampart.
Let us complete our vows, wear something blue,
lift me above the clouds you've touched my heart.
She sucked the thorn tasting, said I will not
pluck takes my quivering hand tie this knot.