Roses are red
Violets are blue
Go ahead, finish 'er up. 
Your skin won’t stay on
So I bought you some glue
No, wait, they’re not; I was wrong.
*Red *roses are red
Violets are violet
Stick that in your pipe
And then you can file it
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Some poems don’t follow standard meter conventions
And don’t rhyme
Roses glow redly
Violets are blue, so they say
All flowers will die
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
It’s worth all those payments
Not to see you.
They say that the roses are red
And get a nice lass in my bed
If my secretary knew
How my “violet” to blew
Then we both might be getting ahead
Roses are red
violets are blue
I’m a schizophrenic
and so am I.
As learned from a friend:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I like spaghetti
Let’s f**k
My personal favorite, from the late, great Roger Miller:
They say roses are red
And violets are purple
Sugar is sweet
And so’s maple syruple
Roses are red,
Peaches are canned
Violence was rated “R”
and thus banned.
Red roses have a big thorn,
And blue violets leave me forlorn.
The girls I devour,
I’d rather less bower:
I prefer it when they are well shorn.
Seen while stringing network wire above my cube:
Rose are red
Pickles are green
I like your legs
And what’s in between.
Higgledy Piggledy
romantic poetry
roses are red and the
violets blue
If your gal’s impressed by
chromobotanicals
chances are good that she
already knew
Roses are red?
And violets blue?
That poet was color blind
And so are you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I want to put
My penis in you.
My dick would go limp
If your face would go blue
Roses are red
Pumpkins are orange
Sex with the sheep
Isn’t that strange
Roses are red
Bruises are blue
don’t make me say shut up
one more time to you!
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
There’s something in the toilet,
It looks like you.
Roses are blue,
and violets are red;
I’m not seeing so well
since that bump to my head.
Oh, any woman you pick up using my poetry, you have to introduce me to her sister.