Poem -
SUMMER scents
T'were not the twisty stems
Rose minded
Or the thorny leaves and
grabbing hands
Or invasive noses, faces close
Bending rose to touch their
toes...
T'were not the rainy drips or
blowing winds
The aphids or the tangly hair
Nor the secateurs waiting
there... for all of this Rose did
not care...no...
It were her daughters dead in
posies fair...
Rose minded that a lot
M P 5/7/21
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Comments
Hey MARION!!....I must admit ~ I am truly intrigued here....been sitting here thinking about this one for a few minutes......and at first I thought Rose was an actual rose thinking about her admirers......But the line ~
          ~ "It were her daughters dead in
            posies fair...."
That line tripped me up....It's a VERY intriguing write that has a cool meaning I'm quite sure......perhaps my brain is just not firing on all pistons today!! (too much 4th of July yesterday)...smiles....Please remember to enlighten me about this piece my friend......I am Ultra-Curious!!.......ALL STARS!!......Always a pleasure!!......LOVE & ROCKETS!!......T xo : )
Hi Tony...thanks for reading. Appreciated. It is a perspective write written from the perspective of a rose lol...thank you đź’ž
🌹🌹🌹
Gave me goosebumps at the end reading about her daughters decaying bodies in what’s meant to be something beautiful as posies. It’s knowing their bodies are just laying there. Cut off from life. Like our loved ones all laying there. Its not the trials of life that effect rose. It’s seeing and knowing her daughters are lifelessÂ
that’s what I got đź’— hugs xxoxÂ
Perfect interpretation Gwen..hugs ...sorry for later reply ❤️❤️
No worries lovely, hugs to you đź’—