Blog Archive

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

The Rose

Picture Credit: Pixabay


I found
This rose
Sitting idle there
Among the marigolds

It inclined its head
At me
Regally, expecting
Me to bow down

With a smile
I cut
The stem
And pocket the rose


Walking away
Whistling
A tune
As the rose pouts.

5 comments:

  1. I liked the gentleness of this poem despite the violent act of clipping it. I also liked the idea of a rose considering itself royalty.

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  2. This reminds me of the flower in book The Little Prince, who also thinks very highly of herself and sulks a lot.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you! Oh, yes. That's a good observation. :)

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