Here they once tended the camellias;
Now all the camellias are deceased,
Choked by the fresh flora that flourishes
In this broken purposed infirmary
For tender flowers consumed by the years.
The red, remembered as a period piece,
The white, no longer abed, still waiting
For the nurseryman’s nurturing hand.
Now never beheld through the shivered panes,
Les dames were offered no kindly mercy.
Today, the house is enclosed by nature
Before it too will return to the earth,
Reconciled with its red and white patients
-
Author:
Robert Tilleard (
Offline) - Published: March 31st, 2022 10:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: Dahlia, Eugene S..
Offline)
Comments3
This piece is quite profound. I feel a deeper meaning with the words "infirmary" and "patients." It might simply be an analogy of the dying flowers but it feels there might be a connection to humans as well. Nonetheless a great piece, is that you reciting it?
Thanks for your insights. You are right to a degree. Camellias are, of course, connoted with TB or consumption - La Dame au Camellias etc., hence references to illness, decay, 'being consumed'.
Yep, those are my dulcet tones! Red camellias were a signal, worn in the 18th century ( France, I think), by women to indicate they were menstruating - hence 'period piece'.
I've more at my website: www.tilleard.co.uk
Also, the picture of the camellia house is by me.
love your work, Sir!
Dahlia
Being an old gardener, having known many old gardeners, I can't count the numbers of once glorious greenhouses I've seen fade away. What a wonderful way to capture that sentiment. Well said.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.