"Well, well, well, I do declare," the Southern Rose blushed. "Little ole fragile me, a joy forever. Can you imagine that?"
"Not you, little miss bighead," the grouchy old thorn growled. "He was talking to the pretty lady. He doesn’t even know you exist."
"Well, Mr. pointy head", the Southern Rose said, "Miss Lottie just said how beautiful I was and how much she loved such a beautiful rose".
"Oh for Pete’s sake you might as well be a blond rose for all the sense that makes." the old thorn snorted. "Do you know what forever means?" "You'll be dried up and gone and I'll still be here"
"Under your belief I'm a thing of beauty, because I'll be here when you’re gone and you will have no idea if I'm forever or not," the nasty thorn chortled.
"Well," the Southern Rose came back, "you may be here forever but you certainly aren't a thing of beauty."
"Oh Beau, Miss Lottie said, "Will you pick that beautiful Southern Rose for me? I will cherish its beauty forever."
"Well if that's not the damndest thing I ever heard," said the jealous old thorn.
"Well, well, well, I do declare, the Southern Rose blushed. ”Little ole fragile me, a joy forever. Can you imagine that?"
for Carry on Tuesday