With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses
By Vachel Lindsay
I saw Lord Buddha towering by my gate
Saying:"Once more, good youth, I stand and wait."
Saying:"I bring you my fair Law of Peace
And from your withering passion full release;
Release from that white hand that stabbed you so.
The road is calling.With the wind you go,
Forgetting her imperious disdain -
Quenching all memory in the sun and rain."
"Excellent Lord, I come.But first," I said,
"Grant that I bring her these twelve roses red.
Yea, twelve flower kisses for her rose-leaf mouth,
And then indeed I go in bitter drouth
To that far valley where your river flows
In Peace, that once I found in every rose."