_-_A_Bouquet_of_Roses_-_YORAG_,_19_-_York_Art_Gallery.jpg)
I used to advise him to pick a rose
by its smell
First,
which was like asking him to choose a girl for her personality
First,
the roses I chose
bloomed often, I cut them and left them
to fragrance the big kitchen.
The rose I have now,
Was lilac,
When I found it at the hardware store.
Now,
it starts magenta, fades to purple,
then pales to near white with dark pink edges.
I get a bud every
So often...
Like life,
I think,
I am always happily surprised to receive
He never tended to the roses
Anyway,
I remember vividly
the wild ones we saw on a walk-first
he denied they were roses at all
Despite the thorns, the tiny neon magenta buds,
the telling
Leaves
And so I never insisted
A rose is a rose
always keeping
my scents
about me.
Painting by Maxime Maufra (1861-1918) - A Bouquet of Roses - YORAG , 19 - York Art Gallery in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.
