Move Over, Bobby Burns Poem by Heidi K. Haskell

Oh my Love's like a red, red rose
That doth attract a bee.
Oh my Love's like an aria
Serenely sung off-key.

As sands of time, hast Thou, my dear,
The ways to make me tense,
Yet do I love Thee still, my dear,
Against my better sense.

Against my better sense, my love,
Though my friends all say me nay,
And though a smarter fool than I
Would swiftly run away.

So, fare Thee well, my irksome love;
Sweet dreams, my strife and sorrow,
And I, for shame, against all odds,
Will love Thee more tomorrow.