A thorny subject

By any other name?

Call me

My scent is dulled
My colour bled
My suckers rampant
Leaders dead.

Call me

Hack me down
Cut me deep
Burn my remains
Leave me to sleep.

Call me

Then tell me how
Sweet I smell now.

Pruned a rose bush this morning. Didn’t enjoy it much!

10 thoughts on “A thorny subject

  1. As someone who has just dug up five rose bushes I have to say I just love this poem! I can certainly relate to your sentiments.

    I’m not the biggest fan of roses. For sure the flowers are lovely but the bush they grow on *sigh*, It leaves me rather ill-tempered and sore…hence mine have been replaced with native Kangroo paw. Soft grass like plant and velvet like flowers. Much more soothing and friendlier than wretched thorns.

    I enjoyed this poem immensly, especially your descriptions and the rhythm you set. I’m left with a distinct impression of hard work and satisfaction.


    • Thank you so much Tikarma – I felt I was taking a bit of a gamble with my ‘neo-folklore’ names for the rosebush so I’m really pleased it worked. Kangaroo paw sounds a far more amenable plant; I can understand why you chose it!

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