i’ve always loved
white roses- i cannot
explain the way
dew falls on curled petals
against dusky sweet-scented dawn
the smell of morning air, you know it
the silhouette against
gold and silver, shivering in
the brutal wind, i want
to cup my fingers around
the trembling blossom, yet
instead, i watch
patches of white clouds
unfurl into the winter
air, they disperse as if
they were
never there, i wonder
what happened to the
dew drops, that resided
on the silken streams
of life, who knows
perhaps they also
dispersed
as if they
were never there.
-
Author:
sophin (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 19th, 2022 00:47
- Comment from author about the poem: white roses in my culture symbolize death, have you / ever seen a dying rose / there is something poetic / about the way they fall from grace / not unlike angel feathers.
- Category: Nature
- Views: 36
Offline)
Comments2
Beautiful imagery
Took me from nature to seasons and then to retrospection inside
Well penned dear poet
An excellently written, and fantastical like scene you've unfolded here sophin.
I'm sure those white roses, will make their defiant return, in the spring.
Bravo, and I hope that all is well!
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