My dear little friend...
Will you kindly stop eating my rose
There's an abundance of thistle blooms
Why not try one of those

Ivy's deliciouse this time of year
The dandelions are yummy
Or that's what I hear

How bout that golden rod for an early morning munch
There's enough for your friends
You can treat them to lunch

Why is it you favor my one special rose
It can't be the fragrance
For you haven't a nose

If in fact that is not the case
Please enjoy its perfume
But chomp not a trace

For then the powder I'll shoot up that nose
To suggest you look elsewhere
Before considering my rose

At last if this warning you fail to heed
I'll resort to the spray gun
Adios... au revoir
I wish you 'God's speed'