My Favourite Red Rose

I hear the sound of the violin
long before it begins,
a quiet prelude,
pulling my heart.
I can intone my soul
to the bottom of the oceans.

Is honesty an option—
in life
or in poetry?

Who is your favourite red rose?

Yes, I hear the sound of the violin
long before is played.
Is honesty an option
in colours?

You are my favourite red lips
in poetry.