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.
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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)
A Picture and a Poem 