Old Roses
in the
beginning your bouquets
came
swathed in green tissue
long
stemmed roses, crimson red
“I love
you” in your neat writing
on the
card tucked into green leaves
their
beauty made me smile
they had
no perfume
soon
wilted and shattered
I kept
the petals in a jar
one day
we were charmed
by a
found rose
one
labeled antique
new
leaves, old roots
the kind
discovered
on old
tumbling walls
where a
house once stood
or an
ancient cemetery fence
Sombreuil
climbed high
on our
red brick wall
snowy
tissue petals
fragrance
so sweet
that said
“breathe”
roots
tracing history
Maggie,
known for fragrance
Mutabulis,
for changing colors
Souvenir
de la Malmaison flowered
over and
over again
there
have been others
all
old-fashioned, graceful
strong,
eager, determined to thrive
resisting
decline
roses
graced our table
dried
into pot pourri
found
their way into the kitchen
floating
in rosy vinegar
how many
roses have you brought
to me
with morning coffee?
I carried
a jar of roses and herbs
to your
hospital room
Remember
holding grandbabies
with a
rose for them to smell?
Picture
all the tiny tussie mussies
delivered
in little girl hands.
we sit
holding hands in the arbor
by the
fish pond curtained
with
clusters of pink roses
the rose
named survivor,
alone
growing again after
hurricane
flood waters
we are
survivors
our love
a rooted rose
thriving
against all odds
growing
past calamity
winds of
change, fear
pain,
onslaught of time
blooming
over and over
no need
for fussy tending
resistant
to failure
giving
joy beyond ourselves
creating
new life from roots
continuing
our love story
old
roses, deep roots
written
for Joe, in our 50th year of blooming.
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