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In delicate defiance
in December’s terrific silence
swathed in female grace
five Red Roses bloom
and swoon
winking at the
aching thorns below
cackling their points
torpedoes to the stem.
Petals smile
and splay
the swaying of the stems
who practice at night
as ignorant thorns sleep
waiting
to wake on bitter morns
and reconvene
a futile battle
for five Red Roses bloom.
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I loved how you gave life to the thorns. I thought this poem would be more cliche than it actually was. (Sorry, just a feeling your title gave me.) I was pleasantly surprised to find that you did more with your subject than I expected. I enjoyed reading it though!
The rhythm and imagery is beautiful. Such a gorgeous poem on a beautiful subject matter. I think true poetry is in the simple things, something I'm still trying to master. Very well done!
'to wake on bitter morns/and reconvene/a futile battle' - I will never look at thorns the same way again. Maybe i'll have some sympathy, and not rip them from the stems so quickly..if their sole purpose is to protect the gorgeous blooms, being in love with them as they are.
