Wild roses

Just words

                              Wild roses

I knew her.
Her beauty had tempted me for many months.
She would dance with me when the songs were good.
She was a long legged woman who had wild blue eyes and loved the whisky and the long night.

I loved her auburn hair and kind and sweet voice.
She told me often.
"Wild roses grow where they want. They know pretty lies and story. The wild rose grow near the river and the thorns can make you bleed for the remnant of love is left and lulls the breath of wishes, that cannot be fulfilled. Old lovers may weep but the wild rose cannot."

I told her often. Free men fear not the wild rose. The taste of the sweet kiss and the loving embrace would be enough. Dark is the night and loneliness is the night when lover's wish is not fulfilled. Love is sweet and very dangerous. You will bleed and weep for love. Better to have slowed danced and known the gentle touch of the wild rose. Men, who do not know the blushing rose. They yearn for the dance with always.

She smiled and whispered. "Brave soldier who fear not the night or the ending. You shall know the deep sadness one day. The wild roses are free and men want to hold and control all things. I shall break your heart."

I brought her closer and I knew her words were true and I still loved and needed my wild rose.
                                   John Castellenas/Coyote

Author's Note

Just words

Reviews

[Alice Poésy]

This is so beautiful and touching. I love these, what I call, "excerpts" from life; like an image taken from a photo album to gaze upon. I love listening to people, I love hearing about people; I love reading about them. People can be such fascinating creatures - and this was such a treat to me. Thank you very much for sharing this with us. It was a delight to read. Here's to the wild roses.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Alice. We need our wild roses.

[Fairy Khan]

I really admire your writing style and the analogy you use in your writings. Always a pleasure to read.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[.]

There are many wild roses out there......not as wild as they think they are; more fragile than free.

I like the symbolism of the wild rose here; a beautiful flower that flourishes on its own. The irony is that the wild rose in your story is anything but. You peel the petals away from such women, and underneath the tough, lonesome exterior is a truly damaged soul. Instinctive in their efforts to keep love at arms length in order to protect themselves from any pain. And while they may me beautiful, their souls are incapable of true love and companionship, so they roam free.

You have written a delicate short piece of an encounter with such a woman. Well written and executed as always. Another fine piece of writing, Coyote.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Dooley. I appreciate the comment.

[Lilith]

this was very pretty and i could really feel the words. beautiful poem c:

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Lilith. I appreciate the comment.

[Valentine]

Just words or semi precious memories. Funny how different times and thoughts affect our memory. Valentine

[Coyote Poetry]

Men seek the dangerous things knowing the deadly ending. Thank you dear friend for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[Jimmy Yetts]

You love them almost as much for their thorns as for that velvety fragrance.
What I would call "a cowboy's tale."
Lovely and mythic!

[Coyote Poetry]

I was station for six years in Texas. Highway 35 had the chance of the Cowboy's tale. Thank you Jimmy for reading and the comment.

[Marianne]

The love for wild roses is as dangerous as not having loved at all. I totally enjoyed reading your words...the dilemma of love when love grows wild and disappointment ensues more often than not. A beautiful portrait of the interaction of love between two people who are willing to risk love no matter if they get hurt, their wounds incurable.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Marianne. We cannot fear love. Pain and pleasure. Both needed.

[Marianne]

Absolutely!

[Ted Kniffen]

Like a moth to a flame John. So grows the Wild Rose. For all of the danger how can one resist? Good write.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Ted and I agree.

[barleygirl]

I particularly love the use of "wild rose" as a symbol for many of the themes that are often found thru-out your writing . . . contrasts of sweet beauty with sharp thorns/rebukes . . . the idea of rambling here & there, sometimes sending down roots, other times not so much . . . overall creating a graceful portrait of the independent wanderer who tastes each new pleasure with full attention to detail (((HUGS)))

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend for reading and the comment. Some people love freedom more than love.

[Patricia Wedel]

dear John, perhaps wild roses should be admired
from a distance. There are thorns that could
create wounds... Roses have a fragrance that
instills a trusting heart to believe in destiny.
truly poetry that leaves a trail of petals.
As always, Pat

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Pat and I agree. Wild roses need to be left alone.