Honey Suckles

O, who favor thee rose sweet smell given

Compare not to thee sweet dew of honey

The rose be fairer for thy vibrant hue

It compares not to thee honeysuckle

Bent before thee rose, honey drips from thy lips

With honey, blood drips from thy fingertips

Tho both hold virtue in love and passion

A rose is fair, but honey is fairer

Delicate petals hug thy nose in bloom

Those who are graced with thy sweet aroma

Hold such fealty in delicate perfume

O, those who favor the rose on a thorn

Shall not witness the warmth of honey born