The Last Rose

 

 

 The last rose relinquishes its tender pink light,

Her sweetness over-come by first frost,

The haphazard blow ending paradise,

Life strewn carelessly upon the earth.

Fall is too twisty, too full of defeat for pink…anything.

We are devil-clad in reds and burning orange

Colors that shimmer under early night shadow,

Days of vibrant death.

Hard for soft summer bodies not to sigh,

Still dressed for night’s of sumptuous heat.

Regret pulls us toward early-lit windows

To unpack the eiderdown, covering rose-bud sheets.

7 Comments

John B Smith

While northern sites fade with burnished glory. New Zealand wakes to another story. From softening
grounds seeds burst anew.To laugh at higher latitudes. So turn that timer upside down ,and wait.
For in six months we’ll have a similar fate.

With apologies to all poets everywhere.. Love John
.

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Samantha

Ain’t it grand that one Bad Poet creates another? Indeed, are we not all linked in this magical desire for poetry, seeing our world through eyes wide open to greater mystery. Thank you for your wonderful poetry of mind.

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Linda

I too love this poem. I so love colors and while reading your words, I could also visualize the colors changing with the seasons. Fall is my favorite season and rose one of my favorite colors. Oh how I love that you paint pictures with your words! I will think of you when bundled up around my fire on a cool Autumn evening, reminiscing of days past, present and the new ones to come.

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Tara Kamath

Love love love this poem, Samantha! It’s so evocative, and the mixture of deliciousness (e.g., the bright, warm devil colors) and regret (as I read it, anyway) is very effective in its ultimately positive effect on my psyche. Thank you!

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Samantha

Only you, and perhaps moi, find dying so delicious. Is that a Saturn thing? Happy it’s made you happy, it’s the only raison d’être from picking up a pen. Miss you.

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Jennifer Cooper

Your prose is always so expressive…A bittersweet farewell to summer’s spell….I can feel the evenings cool, and the days wane…as you retreat under the soothing cover of the rose-bud sheets…patiently waiting for them to bloom once more..xoxo

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Samantha

Thank you, my friend, so much is bittersweet about the fall, glad you can feel that. Thank heavens for the hope of spring, eh? Onward! Appreciate you taking time to notice.

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