This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
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There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
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Write and you are a writer.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Rose

Photograph by Bryan B - aka BoardBreaker93
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Suggested prompt...
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Yesterday you wrote a poem for a dandelion,
today offer a poem for a rose.

6 comments:

morganna said...

After the rain
The air is cool and crisp
Smelling of earth and wet flowers.
Perfect red petals shine.

Last rose of the season,
Warm red velvet to remember
Until the next summer.

cross-posted at http://lizbethsgarden.wordpress.com

glnroz said...

Wisp of wind, though curtain of sheer,

Shadows of day from rays of morn.

Stillness consumes, cept peaceful breath,

Removes the mood of strife with scorn.

A gentle movement, her eyes awake.

Though many times happened‘, the scene the same.

With no malice, borrowed,, I think the phrase,

A rose wll always be , “by any other name.”

_we_the_pieces_ said...

you cut me
you cut me deep
you drew blood
and pain, i couldn't bare
it.

you hurt me
i hate you
because of you
i'm in PAIN

but why do
i still find you
beautiful?

Dani said...

Warm velvet scent
Travels through the damp air
The cool breeze brings it to me
Soft and sweet-
I am thus embraced by its beauty
Before my eyes behold,
Amongst the dripping green leaves-
Between the protection of thorns,
The shock of red.

Folded around itself
It beckons me forward,
Seizes around me with an invisible, pulsating grip-
Dripping with morning dew
That sparkles in the sunlight,
I cannot help myself
I reach for it in ecstasy-

And prick
Its guarding protectors claim my finger.
I am overcome.
I am forever doomed to stand
And stare at my love-
Her crimson lips beckoning
my heart in vain.

christine said...

A fairy flew by in the night,.
Her red velvet ballgown
Caught on the thorn
Of my white rose.

Today, my blossom of snow
Glows like the ember of a winter fire.

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