Love Sonnet 31

The rose, symbol of love so mentioned countless times in poems.

Rose for my love, the best that heaven owns, 

The fairest Earth could bloom beneath the skies, 

As tucked upon her hair instead of crowns, 

Bestows well what the lack of crowns denies; 

That wisp of cloudiness above her head,

 Now heralds  the  start of  a  souring  day, 

Yet, does not damp the warmth her smiles have spread, 

Though crickets chirp, thinking that night would lay; 

Her sighs could drown this soft cacophony, 

As ear discerns better the whispered word, 

Within my heart she plays a symphony, 

And those who love would know its every chord; 

…My love, the toast of early morning dew, 

…Must be enough reason why roses grew.

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Author's Note

Critique or comment please.