Peace
Day 27: 'begin by reading Bernadette Mayer’s poem “The Lobelias of Fear.” Now write your own poem titled “The ________ of ________,” where the first blank is a very particular kind of plant or animal, and the second blank is an abstract noun.'
The Rose of Peace
My father made a pergola
Across the back of the house
Around the concrete patch
We called a patio;
My mother made it into a rose bower.
Each time she went out
Into the summer garden
Hanging washing, picking apples,
Calling over the fence to Aunty Joan,
She passed between, under, through
The sickly sweet scent of roses -
Pink, orange, cream - amongst the green.
One sticky afternoon, set to the task
Of sweeping up fallen petals, leaves,
I asked her favourite: Peace.
To me it was just the name of a rose
That bound all the colours
In a fragrant embrace,
To her, a brief twenty years
After the war, a symbol of hope
Rising calmly beyond the thorns,
Which she could visit every day.
This year, long years since her passing,
I planted Peace by my back door
In hopeful, fond remembrance.
© Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved
Oh that's so beautiful! My grandad had a rose garden with many different kinds. Peace was so lovely! Thank you for reminding me. Peace is what we all need.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad it prompted a happy memory for you.
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