Oh, my spiky little love, With prickles like a glove, You may be a cactus, it's true, But to me, you're a beautiful view. With your arms held high, And your needles reaching towards the sky, A desert bloom, bright and true, You're a symbol of love, tried and true. Your resilience astounds me, How you thrive in the arid sea, And yet, you're softness I see, When I run my hand over your greenery. I know it's hard to get near, With your spikes that cause fear, But to my heart, you're dear, And I'll always hold you near. So let me be your gardener, And tend to your needs with ardor, For a love like ours, hardier, Than any desert flower, is rarer.