My Salutations To Lovers

‘'Then how grace a rose? I know a way! Leave it, rather. Must you gather? Smell, kiss, wear it- -at last, throw away! ‘'Robert Browning'' The reality of love and life we come like buds flowers fragrant smell, a rose then the flavour is immense when the rose is in her hair later in library books will it lay till someone comes and finds it with a signature yours in paper mache then memories of yours would a secret remain in books when one opens who was she the poet's lover maybe Sorry my apology Sir, Robert Browning