Black rose

 I called her morning

For she was bright

As daylight

She held me in her boughs

Like a tree somehow

Caught in the day

Like a noon thorn bush

That grows to the afternoon

How should I love

Such a black Rose

As thee?

The baby is rocked

In the cradle lay

So sweetly

So sweetly

Passed the lullaby day

And sweetly smells the arbour

Wherein her love grows

Oh but what of love's labour

Over such a black rose