The Rose:

Oh your Royal Heiness
Queen of the fields,
And your prickly thorns
You use as a shield.

With your silky petals
That surround your bloom,
Alittle tight quarters
Not that much room.

Your elegance interlaced
Amongst all your zing,
Creating a masterpiece
That's fit for a King.

You sit on your throne
High above all,
Your stunning beauty
Brings time to a stall.

For you are the winner
Ahead by a mile,
To ever replace
A frown with a smile.

Keep up the good work
Your best in show,
For you are the grandest
Love flower that grows.