Dutyfree Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I made you, love
a bed of roses
so you can,
in times of stress
or natural fatigue
just rest your back
against the sea
of God's own flowers.

I removed each thorn
so none would sting
and trouble you
as do those words,
spat out at us
by vicious tongues.

It took me ages,
though I did not mind,
and it is perfect now,
as you may find,
and may I ask you sweet,
will you have me
on your red roses
in your bed,
all dutyfree?