At midnight still the roses bloom
Their colours pale beneath the moon
Scenting the air with rich perfume
while nightingales sing their sweet tune.
When all good folk are fast asleep
as slowly past the night hours creep.
Hidden by darkness lovers dare
enjoy their latest love affair
They snatch a stolen hour or two
in some well hidden rendezvous
Forbidden love they can’t declare
Makes their life easier to bear
The rose does what comes naturally
so do the lovers actually.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.