Red is the rose, green is the tree.
The married state of goods has three.
Roses are red, violets are blue.
Of goods the first is to be true.
The man who dares betray his wife,
Will have no share of Heaven’s life.
Roses are good, so are children,
Twelve, fourteen, or: a million.
Contraceptors this good deny,
In hellish flame those sinners fry.
Roses are red (it’s by design),
Of goods the third: a sacred sign.
A sacrament of Christ’s good love
Like the dewfall from … above.
Roses are red, I won’t conceal
The religious life is more real.
But better now (that’s the concern)
To get married than hot to burn.