Which One Is The Rose

I see you, and I pause,
Attracted by your face.
I start reciting songs
Of roses wrapped in lace.

I also see the one
Who holds you in her hand.
She lauds you with her eyes—
Your petals, red and grand.

I adore your stunning glow,
A painting set ablaze;
Superb is your appearance,
As you glory in her praise.

When I am close to you,
I stop to relish the view,
To offer grateful words
To the one who holds you, too.

But when she turns and smiles,
My heart is stunned anew,
For I can clearly see
That the rose is holding you.