I was walking out the front door and noticed the Mr. Lincoln rose was particularly beautiful. I used my cell phone to snap a pic. The water droplets didn’t come through as crisp as I would have liked…you can see the sheen of the droplets. This rose is a fragrant reminder of my mom’s love of roses. First generated in 1964, the rose was transplanted from my folk’s house after their deaths and the sale of their home.
Tag Archives: flower
Sun-bright.
Tuberous begonia. (If you’re curious about this particular variety, I’ve written more about it here).
Photographed by Sheryl @ Flowery Prose.
I’m so glad.
Gladiolus, unknown cultivar. I love the extraordinary colour of this flower!
Photographed by Sheryl @ Flowery Prose.
I shall visit and lay fresh flowers down – Poetry of loss (Re-posted from ramblingsfromamum)
I kneel upon blades of grass that are crisp and cold upon my skin
I wrap my arms around me tight & quiver against the wind
I lift my head to the dark sky above & shut my eyes tightly
And draw in a breath which makes my body shiver slightly
……….
The rain starts to fall & hits upon my cheek
I wipe the drops of cold & wet away
My brow rubbed with back of hand
I bend my head to pray
……….
I know that you aren’t with me
But I see you in my dreams
I beseech that you are peaceful
But my life is not as it seems
……….
You think after so long,that I am happy?
How can you possibly understand
You are the one who enriched my life
Why can’t I hear your laughter or gently take your hand
……….
I long to hear your voice once more
Or to share your laugh & smile
I want to share these tears that fall
To say me living is worthwhile
……….
I shall visit & lay fresh flowers down
And shall talk & tell you of my day
And wish that you could answer me
I must pretend I can, let me have my way
……….
So for now I lay fresh flowers down
And reverie of what would have been
And caress & tend your grave each day
Inhale deep, with eyes shut tight & dream
……….
But wait I can see your beautiful smile I hear you speak my name
I feel the ring you place upon my finger, a simple band of gold
To have & to hold from this day forward our love was ours to claim
To wed & live together young & then to die together old
……….
But for now I lay fresh flowers down
5 liner
Dahlias
bloody brilliant
sunning in corners
things are looking up
sanguine
Soft petal of the fallen flower…
A soft petal of the fallen flower
still spreads its fragrance
soon it is going to dissolve in earth
die and get buried, as we say it
but don’t forget- a new life will spring up
here where the fallen flower lies
with its soft petal which is
spreading its last bit of fragrance.
The Mind’s Eye Beholds……….
“In the eye of the beholder’ is never more true,
when sharing our images, of the perceived beautiful.
I behold yours and you behold mine.
How do we define beauty?
Softness, hardness, contours, edges or contrast
They combine to grab, please or make one mutter.
I know it when I see it.
Whether yours or mine,
it eases my mind, my heart, sometimes my soul.
Images, for me, convey what seems beautiful.
May I say for the gifted few,
the divinity, who seem able
to draw forth words with blissful ease,
I see your beauty too,
not with my eyes, but with my mind’s eyes,
my heart and sometimes my soul.
Now, What Else Can I write?
I am now afraid to tell myself the truth
The truth I’m avoiding
The truth that is there, present all the same
Why is it so difficult to let the truth seep within you
The truth can hurt, that is also true
The truth that is true
I’m now real afraid truly
Because I think I would have to face the truth.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Truth- the game of true and lie
It is played every where
Sometimes the truth that is true wins
And even the lie can claim its victory as well
I am not making much sense
That is indeed really really true
But what if the truth is not true
And the lie may have been true, if given a choice
And the truth that is now a lie subsides
This game is amazing
The truth that is true
And that lie that is also true
And the truth that is a lie
This chakra would play its part
The lie may claim its crown
But the truth can also steal it away
Because after all truth is quite true
And the lie can indeed be a real lie.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The true colors of the nature rise
Sweetens the wind blowing by
The true flower emerges from within a bud
And the wind bathes in the scent of the truth
The soil truly nurtures a plant
The wind really blows by
Sweetened with the taste of truth.
inner wish
The air is still , my heart is fleeting
Suns rays shine , my face their beating
Summer smells , flowers blooming
The days actions I am grooming
Reeling in my future , it’s full of pain
The questions in my mind they still remain
Waiting for the day to solve it all
It’s here it seems is where I fall
I need to get back to the ways of life
Still scared I wont beat this strife
I just wish sometimes I might
Have you take my hand , say all’s alright
Coloring
When she was small my granddaughter would ask
me: “Be my thinker. Tell me what to draw.”
“A flower,” I’d say, and, serious at her task,
with silent concentration, set of jaw,
she drew upon her paper big fat mums
or daisy faces. “Beautiful, sweetheart.”
“I made them yellow just for you.” My thumbs-
up made her laugh and giggle.” Oh, so smart,
my little one who knew that yellow claimed
first place upon my palate, yellow sun,
the light refreshing color I have named
my favorite. Drawing with her is such fun.
Look
The red merry flowers
Look at me, appraisingly
I look at them, brightly
With my black eyes’ powers.
Snapdragon and rain.
The Flower That Was
Other Side of Distance 20
Don’t wilt.
The sun doesn’t move
but the clouds do.
*
Or, maybe,
go ahead -
fall from stem
jump
petal by petal
to dry up -
turn small
and resistant
to rot.
*
Then into the pantry
so each meal will know
just a bit
of the flower that was.
