The Bouquet

do show me those that would oppose
however thorny, this red rose
or those that still ignore the thrill
of this delightful daffodil

those that refuse to heed the hues
of violets, and sing the blues
over a poppy's bitter cup
and chase their dragons while they nap

those who, their irises split so
they cannot see the snowdrops thaw
how can you help but pity those
it is for them, this thorny rose