To Soothe Her Rampant Delights Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

A rose doesn't require razors.
But they're there to help her climb,
If swamped, surrounded by alligators
She will, over the summertime.
Draw blood to soothe her rampant delights.
She will scramble over the wall, over fen and fell.
To reach that sunlight that still excites
That wild, trembling heart cast her spell.
She will seduce not only our fickle minds.
But leave us all gasping in her paralysing beauty.