Rose

How with thorns it clings to me, with beauty's talons of prickly security

Rambling rose, past sharp memory flows, ameliorated by floral beauty 

Perfumed petals painted bright wilt so quickly over night

Attracted vagabond bee tasting your sweet honey, before taking flight

Now mere stalk and hip, seeds of fornication slip from your grip

So under autumn suns, as winter comes, a branch of memory I clip

Pressed between minds pages dried thoughts of past ages

Faint odors of time past, faded color held fast in paper cages

Reviews

[MrBlack202]

Beautiful poem, Soren. "Pressed between minds pages."

[Soren]

Thank you so much. I appreciate your read and most kind words they are deeply valued

[Chris Shaw]

I think your rambling rose with her sharp thorns has left some indelible memories. She still comes across as fragrant and beautiful. A long time ago, but not in any way forgotten despite the sharps. Wonderfully penned Soren.

Chris

[Soren]

Thank you Chris for the read and kind words. Beauty once seen can not be forgotten despite any injuries suffered. It's beauty may fade but always remains pressed between the pages of one's mind.

[RomaJ]

I feel like this poem is about a love, that was painful but still beautiful. Or maybe it speaks to how we write our pain into poems. and even when the beauty remains, the hurt is still part of it. With time,it doesn't hurt as much. Though it’s fragrance is still there, it's subtle now and quiet. A keepsake to a memory that can no longer hurt us. I like how you use every part of the rose to describe this.
Roma

[Soren]

As is usually the case Roma you are right on target and see through all my disguises. Your keen eye and sensitive nature shows in your own poems and shines like a light in darkness when looking at others. your review and kind words are always appreciated

[RomaJ]

Really? I appreciate you letting me know because on my first reading, I had a completely different interpretation... and was going to write something about a porcupine... lol but I got some sleep and reread it again. Your metaphors are stunning. As I practice reading you. I feel your metaphors help me focus more haha. It's my pleasure, Soren

[Betty Hermelee]

Hi Soren
The fading of Autumn....the drying up of all that we hold sacred....the beasts of the woods who fly south,
all the seeds we plant shall be covered with snow or die on their own when the cold winds blow... even our thoughts shall dry up...only to become reflections of past...when the color fades and our memories are just fleeting moments.... love this piece...
Warmly, B

[Soren]

Thank you Betty for the review and four your most kind words of support. They are appreciated

[Thomas W Case]

Superb work. Vivid and sharp. Great use of the senses.

[Soren]

Thanks so much Thomas I appreciate your words my friend