Yellow Roses
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, in fact, I hadn’t even checked in to this wordpress site, so I was really pleased to see that some of you have still been dropping by to read my old posts… a big thank you to you!
Today, a poem, written last night, straight out, as it appears, through very sleepy eyes. I hope you like it.
Yellow Roses
Today, I bought yellow roses
for three quid from Tesco.
The ones I ordered for Grandma’s funeral
cost twelve times as much.
I put them on the mantelpiece
and watched as they lit up the room,
their blooms beginning to smile,
a little hesitant, maybe,
a little unsure if they should.
I kept myself busy, washing and scrubbing,
cleaning and ironing,
sewing, you know, the kind of things you do
when you don’t want to think.
But, when it came to the end of the day
and tiredness waved her wand and made me sit,
I wrote three poems
about how the past becomes caught up in the present
and how memories are captured
in yellow blooms
as they begin to smile.
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