Perfect

A gift of love, they thus get pride of place,
arranged in crystal on a polished stand
with chosen greenery and baby's Breath:
twelve perfect rosebuds, on a cloth of lace.

Each flaunts its flag of colour – glowing red,
and sparkles with the florist's sprayed-on dew;
each perfect shape atop its thornless stem
has perfume delicate, it's specially bred.

All week I wait in vain for full-blown rose,
and hope the velvet petals will unfurl –
but these hold to their perfect rosebud shape…
such flawless buds! One must admire those!

Somewhere a grower feels a sense of pride
that he could make – genetically design,
a rose forever young, and so ensure
before the rose was born the rosebud died.