What Are You Like In Bed ?

The rose asked the geranium who didn't respond,
because the scent overpowered from the back of beyond;
life was not a bed of roses out of the box,
rather, a disaster when a beautiful flower mocks.

My honeysuckle wouldn't flower because I didn't love her,
needed to be nurtured and given strength to empower,
the virginia creeper overran nearly everything,
except the variegated ivy which wore a wedding ring.

You were caressed, told me the places which were best,
the leaves, the petals, although I might have guessed;
I asked you how long you would be, I'm coming you said,
but a rose just can't be hurried in it's own bed.

At least our love will continue indefinitely,
because unlike others, we're made of plastic you see.