THERE ARE ROSES (In honor of Poetry Month - first poem in ≈ 25 years - inspired by friends in Texas writing everyday in April)

The first half of this month, I have been following a poetic duel between our friends living in Texas. The challenge was thrown down at the beginning of April - "It's Poetry Month, so write a poem everyday." Well, I've sat by and read the wonderful poems that they have posted. Then, the other night as I was getting ready for bed, a poem started to form in my mind and the next day on the way to work, more of it surfaced (the Ouzounian's poems have obviously awoken that long buried part of my brain). However, the last time I spent any time writing poems was as a required assignment in high school, so I'm beginning from that shaky platform. That being said, I hope you EnJoy it - my poem to commemorate the month of Poetry!


THERE ARE ROSES

There are roses
And then,
There are ROSES

What lies in store?

Roses the same
Roses that bore
Roses in color
But roses galore

Raised in a shelter
All tall and stiff
Bred to be uniform
Not for their whiff

We don’t know their names
Nobody can tell
Just red, pink, or white,
Yellow, dusty or pale

They work in a pinch
Or, in times of cold
So buy if you must,
For I will not scold

"A rose is a rose is a rose"
Who coined that plum?
One with no eyes?
A nose that was numb?

What’s in the garden?

ROSES unique
ROSES sublime
Some are compact
Some of them climb

All of them vary
In color and stem
A rainbow of hues
And we can name them

Betty Boop, Angel Face
Burning Desire
Dream Weaver, Joseph’s Coat
Voodoo, The Squire

Butterscotch, Carrot Top
Fisherman’s Friend
Midas Touch, Symphony
Mister Lincoln

Colors like Brandy
Brass, Crimson, and Flame
Apricot, Stainless Steel
Part of their name

What IS that smell?

Some of them sweet
Some of them spicy
Scents on the air
And NONE of them dicey

Get on one knee
Or bend at your waist
Put your nose close,
But don’t be in haste

Draw in the aroma –
Your eyes, they will close,
For nothing on earth
Is quite like the ROSE!

So go to the nursery
Look for a name
Take your friend home
You won’t be the same

Choose the right spot
And with merry and mirth
You’ll get out a spade
And dig in the earth

And as life keeps you busy
There is something I know,
With your ROSES out there –
To the garden you’ll go!

one of my friends, "Miss All American Beauty"