A Portrait Of Pink Roses (Poetry)

Fresh-cut
                in their sky-blue china bowl
the roses pose untouched
by winds —
no bruise
no sign of worm to mar
their unselfconscious perfection.

What rain they’ve known
in their short time
has been forgotten
in the swell and delicate
pale blush
of simply becoming

what they are —
no other dream
is hidden in their scented hearts
no need of anything
they give their beauty up
bestow it on the room...

share it
with the artist keen to try
to catch the light
the way it curves across
full-lipped petals
pouting

where they kiss the air
extravangant
in pink-edged cream
affection
as if they know
adoring eyes look on.

It is all show
a carefully arranged display
seductive
but all innocence
of petal-cheek and waft —
the perfumed messages
paint cannot match.

Life stilled to wistful swirls
holds colour — freezes sap
to keep them fresh
forever...
sweet summer love surviving
uncorrupted
every rose a tender daub
preserved in art’s
quaint trap.