The rose garden behind my tax advisor Asim bey’s office looked like this when I arrived.
Then because I liked them so much, Asim bey started cutting them off for me.
He kept cutting and I kept piling them on the table.
And before we knew it, we had cut off almost all the roses in the garden.
With my pressing request, Asim bey composed a poem for me. Notice that the poem sentences start with my name letters.
Then I carried my million roses home and here the roses were marvelling at their own beauty in the elevator mirror.
Coming in home, I placed my roses by the window.
Then I wrote a blog story for my favourite one rose. It was the only red rose in the crowd.
And all these beautiful roses were a gift for me from a generous man named Asim bey. Here he is.
Thank you Asim bey! And here is my gift for you.