Bright red whorls
can be found
at the base of the stem
where the thorns are -
the scent is sweetest,
strongest there;
the petals are softest
there.
I place the rose
beneath my pillow,
tender, as though
my own heart
breathed there;
my heart beats
safely there.
© Shaista Tayabali, 2011
for the diverse poets
art by Alan Armstrong
Off into hospital this morning for an autumnal round of IV medication. I am taking the black rose with me for courage. Haut les couers!
Wednesday 19 October 2011
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11 comments:
And your heart beats safely through your words.
Be well!
Rick
Oooooo, love this poem.
Thinking of you....
i hope that all goes well today at the hospital...i know that feeling of wanting that place of strength and shelter..
A beautiful poem, from a rose of a girl. Hope all goes well and the meds do good things for you. You have the rose. Now, all you need is a Dark Prince to arrive. (I am such a romantic!)
My the thorns of needles be softened by the scents of beauty around you. Fare well, lovely rose.
Oh Shaista, so beautiful, so tender, only you.
bless you, hope all is well.
sharp words, love your poem very much.
Hello.
Visiting from The Poetry Pantry.
There's something very tender about this poem. Lovely imagery too.
Thanks for sharing.
Hospitals are no fun...I've recently been there myself...Hope you are doing better.
Undress Me With Your Sultry Eyes
Beautiful poem. Nicely done!
http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/10/23/the-wolf-and-the-rose/
love it.
stay blessed.
A lovely poem that has caused me to ponder. I hope things go well for you. xoXox
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