Twenty-three gold crimsoned flowers,
While I was out in fields a-Maying
Were left in secret in our bower,
A springly gift spring stress allaying.
Not only roses, candies also,
Were wrapped in clearest floral wrap.
Attached we found a note—but who
Could have left these? King or satrap,
Soldiers, vagabonds, sons of a river?
The card was left unsigned; yet we
Do thank the encoded dubious givers.
Your kindness I show for all to see.
I know who it was. . . ;-D I wonder if I'm allowed to tell :-D
ReplyDeleteI think Carolyn already figured it out. Next to last line.
ReplyDelete*ducks and runs*
::blinks innocently::
ReplyDelete