Lavendar Roses
A Poem by Dorie Snow in Celebration of World Rose Day
Lavander Roses
The ones I love are barely pink at all
cream turning lavender along the edge,
like morning written very small
on China cups set on my window ledge.
They smell of heaven and never grown alone
the way the Getty’s courtyard holds the light,
I see their petals on the path’s cool stone
and watch my bad day stumble out of sight.
They float in baths like little silk-lined boats,
they hide like secrets in a jar of cream,
they scent the hair that curls beside my throat
and fill a pastry’s folded, golden baked seam.
No red, no velvet drama, just this plain rose
whose softness stays where nobody expects.
It lifts a mood the way a line of prose
can lift a heart, and then it quietly rests.
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The picture is a rose from the gardens at the Getty.
Dorie, this is the most beautiful love poem I've read in a long time. I slowed down for every thoughtful image, every careful detail. I share your love for flowers, their scents, and how their beauty lifts me. And, I really needed to read a love poem I could relate to. Thank you for these beautiful words.