Like the bloody roses that sprang up from the tears of Aphrodite, my love for you is ever growing. The songs of Orpheus are no more beautiful than the melodies you sing, sweetly embracing me, imprinting their notes upon my heart. The muses themselves could not compare to you, my love, so sweet and fair. From the high clouds of heaven, the gods envy us, our love blossoming in the passions of the red rose bushes, watered by the tears of angels. Each moment with you is like a ray of the stars’ glistening night, it is times like these when I know that Chronous is indefinite, and he chooses to wait for us.
Like the nightingale, that so pierced her breast upon a rose, my love for you is fearsome.
There is no glen I will not search, no forest I shall not explore, my love for you is mysterious, yet adventurous too. With the morning sunrise, my love shall awaken you, and with each passing sunset, my love will kiss you softly, fading out into the night. Glistening like the morning dewdrops on a rosebuds lips, my love for you is careless, yet timid nonetheless.
Although it may seem impossible, like myths of dragons, fair knights, and kings. My love for you is everlasting, as concrete as it seems. Though every rose grows old and wilts, though winters may pass and freeze their petals, spring does return. Like the hope eternal, like the Olympic flame. My love for you is passionate, no matter how far away.
Nor death nor life, nor angels, nor demons could remove me from thy. See, my love for you is infinite, like the stars that decorate the sky. Though death may keep us parted, each spring our buds renew. And when the winter melts to spring, when flowers come abloom. I stop and smell the roses, I stop and think of you.
Photo Credits: Huntington Library Botanical Gardens
