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Friday, March 18, 2005

Elegy.

The rose died.
Its petals closed upon themselves to
Gather warmth, but
Spring was too cold.

Although admired by many,
Roses know only too well the
Bluish veins beneath the red glass
Doors-

Choked and strangled,
A disease only patient and
Passionate gardeners treat;
caretakers sometimes succeed.

They say that the most beautiful of
Roses come
Singularly
As romantic gifts.

The most romantic of
Gifts then,
Fade
Like quicksand burying all

Beauty when
the hourglass tolls
The
Knell.

But even wilted roses appeal
To some-
Hardy, lasting and without care;
Forever they lie in their wooden vases,
Like cerise carcasses.

posted by voyeur @ 3/18/2005 10:25:00 PM

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Random thought.

I sit alone on the cozy ground floor
On a bench by the garden waiting also
Waiting for love and thinking of all of the catty remarks I also swallow

I like simple minded people. I really do. At fourteen, i remember my english teacher asking us what qualities we looked for in a boyfriend (don't ask me how this came up in class, i can't remember now, but it did.). I raised my hand rather quickly (it being a subject of interest to me at that age, and well, now too), and i said, "Sincerity".

How could i have misplaced this important trait along the way and perhaps even substituted it for superficial qualities that are but fleeting? I'm glad i was reminded this afternoon though. It's about time i did, lest i put my heart in jeopardy again.

posted by voyeur @ 3/16/2005 03:05:00 AM