(some late bloomers will leave you panting)
Good Morning from the indestructible towers that are A Word with You Press!
Over the next three days I will post the remaining entries into our contest: A Dozen Roses from a Single Thorn: A Valentine’s Day Love Story. Each entry has been required to embed the phrase : but it was only a rumor.
Not quite sure how flowers came to symbolize love. Hmnnn. What do love and flowers have in common? Beauty and Fragility?Renewal? Blossom and decline? I myself would choose some other symbol, something that represents empowerment and immortality. Love should be the only word in the English language for which there is no past tense. And yet, I do love the tenderness of a flower as a symbol of the gentle possibilities of love. And so does Don Maker. Get out your kleenex.
All the flowers in the world
by Don Maker
I heard all the flowers in the world had died,
withered away from whence they had sprung,
but it was only a rumor.
Truth is, all those lovely bouquets
that bloom throughout the vast continents and hidden vales –
the delicate pinks, the dark, exotic blossoms,
and all the rainbow hues in between —
simply withered in comparison.
They lost their sweet fragrance, and faded from my sight.
It is as though they never existed,
never held the charm,
never could compare
with my beautiful English Rose.
6 thoughts on “Late bloomers: final contestants make it under the byre!”
Yes, they do pale in comparison to our own Rose. Who wouldn’t like to receive this poem on that National Day of Love. Your writing is so full of loving and colorful images that so beautifully symbolize the writer’s feelings for his loved one. Years ago, Hank Williams, Jr. recorded one of his most famous classic country songs along these same feelings. You and Hank got it goin’ for you.
Um…well…poetry is my favorite part of writing and reading. So let me applaud the effort, the awe inspired emotions meant for the precious nature of a world of petals with beauty blooming vastness of creation, yet of all of these love is in the eye of the beholder where the heart must surely follow.
Roses are my favorites, especially the vintage variety…. Beautiful poem.
I love roses too, says this Kristine Rose…they are known to be the symbol of love. Yet, I am swayed by all flowers as their mission in life is just to be, to simply exist for mother nature’s parfume and bejewelment. Flowers are fleeting, delicate, and naturally wild. Flowers are the essence of compassion…when they are the most beautiful they are open, joyful and graceful…They are sensitive to the touch and to our words. This entry illuminates Don’ s adoration of his English Rose….may his love for her continue to naturally blossom freely while reaching towards the stars grounded in the enriched soil of trust.
A perfectly discribed eye of the beholder.
Someone once asked me, “How does passion taste?” I wanted to eat every word.