On the occasion of Robert Burns’ 259 birthday yesterday.

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My love is like red red roses

Uttered Bobby Burns to she

Newly sprung in June he supposes

Good thing he didn’t say it to me.

*

I know those new red red roses

Aphids and beetles do assail

While fragrance goes up our noses

They are blitzed by fungus and scale.

*

Bobby Burns you can keep your rose

I have no interest in the work.

Why is it a red rose you chose?

You didn’t do your homework, jerk.

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(A quatrain poem)