The Lovely Roses by Jill Stockinger
From the effulgent garden,
I choose twelve showy red roses
to compose a bouquet to brighten
the dullness of our dining room.
Though the thorns draw blood,
I ignore their efforts to repel
my steadfast, intent gathering.
After a week inside, the roses
pale and droop. I put sugar
in the vase to prolong their lives
but the petals still drop, gently,
one by one, and then in bunches.
Soon, only the scent remains,
and even that fades fairly quickly.
Several roses prick me as I add
their remains to the compost bin.
As drops of blood flower on my hands,
I smile wryly and once again
affirm the truth to that old saying:
“There is no beauty without pain.”
I removed “after” and just kept “Soon” in that line- good call, Nedra!
I kept “fairly” because each time I say it, it brings up
the idea of “fair ladies” to my mind, and a quick comparison
of “fair roses and fair ladies.” Though it’s just in my mind-
not written out-the word “fair” keeps it there.
Also “fairly quickly” is a slower amount of time than quickly, to me- I don’t want the scent to fade That quickly!
Also revised, with Nedra’s help:
The Beauty of Crows by Jill Stockinger
The beauty of crows is seen
in their blue-green iridescent sheen
and the intelligence burning in their eyes.
Despite the ugliness of their grating cries
and their meddling, quarrelsome nature,
they are like a parable on the wing:
It is wise to use your voice
even if you cannot sing;
some beauty can be found in everything.
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