Roasting & Basting in a Rose Colored Soup is Rose Limongi…

Don’t get too comfortable sitting in that pot, Rose,

Or maybe it is not sitting but smoking it threw your nose,

A writer of romantic poetry is she, tunes my organ daily, does Rose…

She constantly amazes with her prolific abilities,

So many are her poems, so many are her possibilities,

Never does she show, at least not so far, any hostilities,

She takes with seriousness all her responsibilities…

Most roses grow then slowly die, losing their petals in the process,

But we are lucky herein to have a Rose that does not lose her petals,

She writes and writes of romantic encounters,

Never do we see her just go for the least and settle,

A full-blown woman she is of great mettle…

I herein again hope, that this is found to be a short roast of humor,

At the very least, I am most likely chasing away my friends,

On the den, the net and in general creating a wonderful rumor…

                        © ed – 6/5/04