2:39 AM
~The BelleRose Place ~
♥Be My Sweetheart- latest version♥
*This bouquet consist of 5 stalks of Madonna lilies and 20 stalks of champagne color roses.
Throughout these years, the bouquet flower Be My Sweetheart has proven to be popular among my customers. Though, this is not one of my favorite bouquets, it seems to successfully win the hearts of my customers and the recipients, of course!. :)
I came across this lovely poem while I was surfing the net. Therefore, I thought of sharing the poem with the readers here, as the title is the same as my bouquet title. :)
I came across this lovely poem while I was surfing the net. Therefore, I thought of sharing the poem with the readers here, as the title is the same as my bouquet title. :)
Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
When birds are on the wing,
When bee and bud and babbling flood
Bespeak the birth of spring,
Come, sweetheart, be my sweetheart
And wear this posy-ring!
Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
In the mellow golden glow
Of earth aflush with the gracious blush
Which the ripening fields foreshow;
Dear sweetheart, be my sweetheart,
As into the noon we go!
Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
When falls the bounteous year,
When fruit and wine of tree and vine
Give us their harvest cheer;
Oh, sweetheart, be my sweetheart,
For winter it draweth near.
Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
When the year is white and old,
When the fire of youth is spent, forsooth,
And the hand of age is cold;
Yet, sweetheart, be my sweetheart
Till the year of our love be told!
- by Eugene Field
When birds are on the wing,
When bee and bud and babbling flood
Bespeak the birth of spring,
Come, sweetheart, be my sweetheart
And wear this posy-ring!
Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
In the mellow golden glow
Of earth aflush with the gracious blush
Which the ripening fields foreshow;
Dear sweetheart, be my sweetheart,
As into the noon we go!
Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
When falls the bounteous year,
When fruit and wine of tree and vine
Give us their harvest cheer;
Oh, sweetheart, be my sweetheart,
For winter it draweth near.
Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
When the year is white and old,
When the fire of youth is spent, forsooth,
And the hand of age is cold;
Yet, sweetheart, be my sweetheart
Till the year of our love be told!
- by Eugene Field
