Dried roses,
brittle as beleagured time.
This yellow, paler now,
graced a funeral spray.
Dew kissed by tears,
gathers patina of dulling dust.
This blood red, from wedding bliss.
This soft blushing pink,
remembrance lost.
Dimentia by decay.
Dried roses,
crumbling petals.
Fading synapses
midst prickly thorns.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. It’s time for Tuesday’s Poetics with Mish tending bar. She asks us to write about a memento. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come post a poem or just enjoy imbibing the poetic words of others. Remember, dVerse exists in cyberspace — a virtual pub — so we have poets from around the world post with us! It’s a meeting of poetic spirits – and we call it our virtual pub! Come visit! New prompts on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays — although I try to post here every day.
lillian the home poet 
Oh! Wow!
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I think that means you liked it. 🙂 Glad of that!
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Oh, I most definitely did. The surprise of it, the awesomeness was so Wow -I really still do not have the appropriate words to describe its Greatness. (@–>–)
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So sad when memory is lost… not even mementos help… so sad
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Yes.
And on the other hand, sometimes we look back at our own mementos and say, “Now why did I keep that one?”
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Are memories lost, or just misplaced, disguised, morphed into cortical code? Senility, like infancy, is a world without our control, without communication. It might be waiting for each of us, patiently, devious, indiscriminate–like cancer.
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A very astute comment here. Sometimes, if I forget something, I worry. And then I remember the words I heard from a doctor at a workshop on dementia that I attended. We all lose our car keys. It’s when you find them and you look at them and say “What are these?” that you should worry.
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I used to keep them before but decided it was too crumbly and fragile, so I threw them away. This one is very touching:
Dew kissed by tears,
gathers patina of dulling dust.
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Yes….if truth be told, mine were all tossed this past Christmas season when I do the annual “shifting” of knick knacks…putting away the all year ones and replacing them with the Christmas ones. When I picked up the rose buds this time, they did exactly that…crumbled. But these mementos were the ones that came to mind for the prompt — and I extended the thoughts about them.
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That is so lovely, Lillian. It reminds me of when I was little and we went to family weddings – I always took a flower or two home with me. I didn’t get the chance at Ellen’s wedding and I wish I had.
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I did that for many years — took flowers from those important moments. I think they should have been “pressed” though. I might still have them had I done that. These are the memories of those.
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Touching and introspective. Well written.
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Thank you, Bev. Glad you enjoyed.
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Tender and poignant .. and I like the way you take the breaking down of colour in roses to underline such touching memories
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Thank you….at the time, each came from a special place / person. Sadly, these are now gone as they just became too fragile. But — I used those memories (and then some) to write the piece.
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When a friend died of cancer quite a few years ago, her husband asked me to come over a few weeks later and “remove all the flowers.” He said watching them die was like watching HER die, all over again. I have never given an unliving flower for sympathy, since then – only live plants, or donations. Your poem reminds me of his tears, for petals falling. A striking piece, Lill.
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Thank you so very much for this comment. I shall remember this. I actually no longer have dried flowers — although I did for many years. This past Christmas as I exchanged my all-year knicknacks etc for my Christmas ones, they fell apart in my hands. But they came to mind when I wrote the piece…and I extended the thoughts on them…
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Dried flowers from funerals when they decay reminds one of death. I think it might be better to have flowers one can plant that will be a living reminder or to plant something as a memorial to the person who died.
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I agree. One of the flowers I had was from a spray on my brother’s coffin. Sadly, my dried flowers all disintegrated…but they came to mind for this post…and I just extended the idea here.
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Very touching, Lill. I like how you paid tribute to the separate colors, fading in life and memory. Perhaps the thorns are the pain of loved ones left behind.
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Yes…..and sometimes, even those we love have a prickly side. I no longer have dried flowers…but I did for many years.
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Am remembering my mom’s request that no flowers, be given, at my dad’s funeral, rather a donation be made, to The Canadian Heart and Stroke Foundation, as I read your poem, Lillian.
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Yes. I understand this. My brother died when he was just 51….he was 9 years older than me and died in 1983. I still to this day remember the overwhelming smell of flowers when I walked into the room where he lie in his coffin. It is a smell I would like to never smell again. One of my dried flowers was from his funeral. But — these flowers have all long been gone, disintegrated. However, the prompt reminded me of them and so I extended the idea a bit.
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For a long time I kept some corsages, pressed them in books…this reminded me of that…not associated with death exactly, time moving on..I like the “brittle as beleaguered time” 😉
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Ah yes….I kept corsages from high school proms, until that boyfriend went by the wayside and I was on to another! 🙂
Actually, my collection of dried flowers is no more — disintegrated. But I do remember them and wrote this post, extending the idea a bit.
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Ah, this is teeming with emotions…
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I’m glad you enjoyed, Maria.
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very touching and sad! The opening lines are beautiful!
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Thank you, Sreeja.
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A pain…..well expressed
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Thank you!
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I like that you’ve included the prickly thorns. True that life can be sweet scented, but there are also those surprising thorny moments that always catch us off-guard.
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Yes indeed. Even loved ones have prickly sides! My collection of dried flowers is no more…but this prompt reminded me of them and so I drew ideas from them.
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There’s such a sadness to this. Those poignant memories. It’s very touching.
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Thank you, Sarah. Mementos can be from hilarious times, sad times, happy times, reverent times….and as they collect, sometimes some of them lose their connections…
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I know. Sometimes I get rid of things quickly because I know if I don’t they’ll gain value just from being around…
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A poignantly beautiful piece.
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Thank you, Imelda. I do so appreciate your read and kind words here.
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roses especially faded ones bring back lots of memories, this was beautiful nostalgia.
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It’s true, right? I think the type of flower most often saved by drying, has to be the rose. Many others are what is called “pressed” but I’ll bet the rose is most often saved. The petals just seem to stay in that delicate shape and the color pales and becomes softer, like the memories.
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thats really lovely and yes roses are like that delicate yet retain their beauty even after their color fades, they are the best to be just left drying, really pretty with a silk sash around them to balance the dryness with some softness
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My mother insists that we give her all the flowers NOW…’None for me when I’m gone’ she scolds, ‘How can I enjoy then then?’
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Your mother is very wise! 🙂
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