poetry for kid

why do you always stand there shivering
when the wind works against us in the dark
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
my sorrow, when she's here with me
babylon-where i go dreaming
we break the glass whose sacred wine
shades of night were falling fast
lo! 'tis a gala night
from our hidden places
were it not for that singular smell
stay no more
to come so soon to this imagined dark
when freedom from her mountain height