A Rose Arose

MendedFences27

A Rose Arose

 

One cloudy day, as he walked that hillside

there, in a brief ray of sunlight he saw

 

a singular Rose, dying

 

between the Lilac and the Blackthorn

that were overgrown and overhanging.

 

A blood red Rose, amid a crown of thorns

that were barely tied to its tall, dense stem.

He knew it was a tree rose, but wondered

how it came to be in that location.

 

Might someone have tried to start a garden?

 

 It was cold that Friday in October

but somehow he had become determined

 

to save that spirited Rose.

 

He left and returned with his wheelbarrow

plus tools, to prune the Lilac and Blackthorn.

He then clipped the only remaining Rose

 

and saved it in his coat.

 

Carefully he bundled and tied the canes.

 He dug a trench extending outward from

 the plant’s base and as long as the plant’s height.

He loosened the soil surrounding the base

and he quietly laid the rose to rest.

He covered it with soil and mounded it.

He buried it in mulch, then returned home 

and pressed that rose flower into pages 

of the poignant book that he was reading.

 

In springtime he returned to that hillside

removed the mulch and resurrected

 

the rose

 

staked and tied it so that it would not fall.

He came back many times to care for it

but always, when he was done

he returned to the priory

from whence he had come.

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Comments +

Comments4

  • Fay Slimm.

    A tale of sheer devotion to saving nature and all she creates -- the title so apt and the telling so folded in poetic rhythm - - loved the title - a rose arose indeed.

    • MendedFences27

      Thank you, Fay. Hopefully there is a much deeper meaning. Nature needs all the help she can get these days.

    • Caring dove

      This is lovely . Nature should be saved too .. I like how you have expressed yourself in this ))

      • MendedFences27

        Thanks, Vi. It's about a rose and more.

      • orchidee

        Good write M.

      • L. B. Mek

        layered and meaningfully, so
        I admire poetry, that's obviously
        intimate in context
        but inked in a manner that affords, the reader
        enough abstracted distance
        so they can interpret
        the words and themes, in a way
        that they best relate to it..
        it takes such refined, practiced skill and restraint
        to make it a subtle element of a poem
        a fantastic write! thank you
        dear Poet

        • MendedFences27

          Thank you, L.B. I like to write so that there is always more below the surface.

          • L. B. Mek

            a great trait



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