One Perfect Rose

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
'My fragile leaves,' it said, 'his heart enclose.'
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.

by Dorothy Parker

Comments (8)

This is an absolutely wonderful poem! !
'Cos Interflora don't do limousines. Duh.
What Mae West might've written if she had time for more than a wise-crack
Heard this recited in a Christmas movie...Sweet, succinct yet quite poetically compendious.
ispelt spelt wrong der da der be da ya gimmie that @#! $
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