A Sheaf Of Red Roses Poem by Gert Strydom

Today I saw
a sheaf of red roses,
which a florist displayed.

The petals was still closed
and was fresh,
as if just cut from the trunk.

The roses were spread wildly
and something of their fragrance,
drifted outside in the air.

The flowers caught
various people’s eyes and some bees,
were flying around at the door.

I just had to get those flowers,
but remembered
that my darling loves sweet peas more.