All I Ate

I ate the roses by the garden gate.
My sweetly scented breath delighted me,
And though the thorns stung most alarmingly
I swallowed all the blood and called it fate.
The tulips were in a most desperate state,
The peony bush looked like misery,
The asters needed faith, and charity,
But only roses bled. That's all I ate.

You're wondering how I explained the scent
When Jenny kissed me. I did not explain:
I told her I had been under a strain,
Like Guy Fawkes in the halls of Parliament,
Like Mama selling thrills to pay the rent,
Like snacking on those roses in the rain.