Sonnet 132, Perfect Impression Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Perfect impression, ah rose fairest of blooms,
Giving colors to the loneliest hearts;
Filling up with fragrance gardens and rooms,
Your treasure truest never here departs.
Imperfect as we are in our dreaming,
At least man's affection, who'll ever know;
Electrified garden summer streaming,
Can you not feel the touching and the glow?
Ah wonderful, sweetest fairy like dream,
Blossom eternal with a simmering glide;
Can I not touch thy shade from coming gleam?
This in my heart of the past never died.
Perfect with petals like velvet and close,
Into summer longings thy flower grows.